The  Story  of 
Leather 


SARA  WARE  BASSETT 

%  f 

Author  of 

"The  Story  of  Lumber," 
"The  Story  of  Wool" 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
C.  P.  GRAY 


THE  PENN  PUBLISHING 

COMPANY    PHILADELPHIA 

1915 


COPYRIGHT 
1915  BY 
THE  PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 


The  Story  of  Leather 


To 

Mr.  A.  C.  Lawrence 

whose  friendship  has  followed  me  all 
my  life  and  but  for  whose  kindly  aid 
this  book  could  never  have  been  written. 

S.  W.  B. 


Contents 

I.     THE  THUNDERBOLT 9 

II.  PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME         ...  28 

III.  A  NEW  FRIEND 51 

IV.  PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH         ....  70 
V.     A  CATASTROPHE 97 

VI.  Two  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON      .        .        .112 

VII.  THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER          .         .         .  133 

VIII.  A  NARROW  ESCAPE  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES      .  151 

IX.  PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE  AND  RECEIVES  ONE  172 

X.  THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT     .         .         .186 

XI.  TOLMAN  EXPERIENCES  A  SHOCK       .        .        .  209 

XII.  MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY    .            .           .  225 


Illustrations 


PAGE 


THE  REVOLVING  DRUMS     .....  Frontispiece 

A  MATCH  WAS  UNDER  WAY 47 

"  MAY  I  SPEAK,  SIR  ?  " 9° 

IN  THE  FINISHING  DEPARTMENT  ....  137 
THE  THREE  MEN  STEPPED  FORWARD  .  .  .164 
HE  SENT  THE  MAN  SPINNING  INTO  THE  CROWD  .  219 


The  Story  of  Leather 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  THTJNDEKBOLT 

ETER  CODDINGTON  sat  in  the 
afternoon  sun&hine  on  the  steps 
of  his  big  colonial  home  looking 
absently  out  over  the  circular 
drive,  and  the  quaint  terraced  gar- 
den, to  the  red-tiled  roof  of  the  garage  beyond. 
But  he  was  not  thinking  of  the  garage  ;  he  could 
not,  in  fact,  even  have  told  you  the  color  of  its 
vivid  tiling.  No  !  He  had  far  more  important 
things  to  think  of  than  that — disquieting  things 
which  worried  him  and  made  him  very  unhappy. 

9 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

For  about  the  twentieth  time  he  took  from  his 
pocket  his  school  report  and  ran  his  eye  down  the 
column  of  figures  written  upon  the  white  card. 
He  did  not  read  because  the  reading  gave  him 
pleasure.  Neither  was  the  bit  of  pasteboard  white 
any  more.  Instead  it  was  thumbed  and  worn  at 
the  corners  until  it  had  gradually  assumed  a  dis- 
mal grayish  hue — a  color  quite  in  harmony  with 
Peter's  own  mood. 

Peter  really  did  not  need  to  look  at  the  report 
at  all,  for  already  he  could  close  his  eyes  and  see 
before  him  in  glaring  type : 

Algebra 40 

History 20 

Latin  -  -        -        -        -        -        -30 

French  -                                         -    30 

Drawing 25 

What  a  horrible  fascination  there  was  in  those 
marks  !  He  found  himself  repeating  them  aloud 
to  impress  upon  his  mind  the  fact  that  they 
actually  were  true.  But  what  was  far  more  tragic 
than  these  testimonials  of  defeat  was  a  foot-note 
written  in  red  ink  in  the  well-known  hand  of  Mr. 

Christopher,  the  principal  of  the  school.     It  read  : 

10 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

"In  consequence  of  Peter  Coddington's  poor 
scholarship  and  unsatisfactory  deportment  it  is 
against  the  rules  of  the  Milburn  High  School  that 
he  retain  any  position  in  school  athletics  until 
such  time  as  both  his  studies  and  his  conduct  reach 
the  standard  required  by  the  school  authorities." 

It  was  that  single  sentence  that  made  Peter's 
face  so  grave.  The  marks  alone  were  bad  enough. 
He  was  heartily  ashamed  of  them  because  he  knew 
that  if  he  had  studied  even  a  reasonable  amount 
of  time  he  could  easily  have  passed  in  every  sub- 
ject. It  was  by  no  means  difficult  work  for  a  boy 
of  his  ability.  But  to  be  put  off  the  ball  team  I 
Why,  it  was  on  his  pitching  that  the  whole  Milburn 
school  was  pinning  its  faith  in  the  coming  game 
against  Leighton  Academy.  "  Peter  will  save  the 
day  I "  the  fellows  had  declared.  What  would 
they  say  when  they  discovered  that  their  hero 
was  to  be  dropped  from  the  team — that  he  had 
not  passed  one  of  the  freshman  examinations  ? 

Half  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  freshman  class 
centered  about  Peter.  Throughout  the  grammar 

school  he  had  made  a  wonderful  record  in  athletics ; 

ii 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

his  unerring  drop  kick  had  won  him  fame  at  foot- 
ball long  before  he  was  out  of  the  sixth  grade,  and 
he  could  pitch  a  ball  with  a  speed  and  curve  al- 
most professional  in  its  nicety.  "  Wait  until  Peter 
Coddington  gets  into  the  high  school !  "  had  been 
the  cry.  "  Milburn  can  then  wipe  up  the  ground 
with  every  school  within  reach."  As  Peter  had 
never  been  much  of  a  student  the  gate  of  this 
temple  of  learning  had  been  difficult  to  reach ; 
but  at  last  the  day  came  when  he  managed  to 
squeak  inside  the  coveted  portals  where  all  the 
honors  promised  him  were  at  once  laid  at  his  feet. 
He  became  a  member  of  the  football  eleven, 
pitcher  on  the  freshman  nine,  president  of  his 
class.  Friends  swarmed  about  him,  for  he  had  a 
pleasant  way  of  greeting  everybody,  he  treated 
generously,  and  he  had  a  winsome  little  chuckle 
that  spread  merriment  wherever  he  went. 

None  of  these  qualities,  however,  helped  his 
poor  scholarship,  which  he  jauntily  excused  by 
explaining  to  his  father  at  the  end  of  the  first 
quarter  that  he  had  not  really  got  into  the  game 
yet.  In  consequence  Mr.  Coddington  listened  and 

12 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

was  patient.  When  the  mid-year  record  dropped 
even  lower  Peter's  argument  was  that  it  took  time 
to  adjust  one's  self  to  novel  conditions.  But  as 
spring  brought  no  improvement  Mr.  Coddington, 
a  man  of  few  words,  remarked  severely :  "  I  will 
give  you  one  more  chance,  son." 

The  list  of  figures  in  Peter's  hand  were  the  fruit 
of  that  chance. 

Peter  had  a  wholesome  awe  of  his  father.  He 
was  not  a  man  to  be  bamboozled.  On  the  contrary 
Mr.  Coddington  was  a  keen,  direct  person  who 
came  straight  to  a  point  in  a  few  terse  sentences  ; 
predominant  in  his  character  was  an  unflinch- 
ing sense  of  justice  which  was,  however,  fortu- 
nately tempered  with  enough  kindness  to  make  a 
misdoer  mortified  but  never  afraid  in  his  presence. 
Peter  admired  his  father  tremendously  and  if  for 
one  reason  more  than  another  because  he  was  so 
"  square."  Never  during  all  the  span  of  the  lad's 
fifteen  years  could  he  recall  a  single  instance  when 
Mr.  Coddington  had  broken  his  word.  It  was 
this  knowledge  that  made  Peter  so  uncomfortable 
as  he  glanced  once  more  at  the  bedraggled  report 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

card.  What  had  his  father  meant  by  saying  he 
would  grant  him  one  more  chance  ? 

The  boy  wished  now  that  he  had  considered  the 
matter  in  a  more  serious  light.  He  had  known  all 
along  that  his  marks  were  dropping  behind,  and 
every  morning  he  had  vaguely  resolved  to  make  a 
spurt  that  day  so  that  when  examination  time 
came  he  might  cross  the  tape  neck  and  neck  with 
if  not  in  advance  of  the  other  fellows.  The  prom- 
ised spurt,  however,  had  not  been  made.  Instead 
he  had  drifted  along,  studying  only  enough  to 
keep  his  head  above  water  and  putting  all  his  zeal 
into  tennis  or  baseball  until  the  present  climax 
with  its  direful  calamity  had  been  reached. 

Unquestionably  it  was  perfectly  fair  that  he 
should  forfeit  his  place  on  the  team.  All  the  boys 
knew  the  rule  of  the  school.  But  somehow  it  did 
not  seem  real.  When  a  fellow  could  kick  a  goal 
and  pitch  a  ball  as  he  could  something  must 
surely  intervene  to  prevent  such  a  fate.  Nothing 
dreadful  had  ever  happened  to  Peter  before.  It 
was  not  likely,  he  argued  optimistically,  that  it 
could  happen  now.  Considerably  cheered  by  this 

14 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

logic  he  slipped  his  grimy  report  into  its  still  more 
grimy  envelope  and  began  to  whistle.  Buoyed  up 
by  comfortable  reveries  he  whistled  fully  five  min- 
utes, when  the  tune  came  to  an  abrupt  end.  A 
step  on  the  gravel  had  arrested  it.  Looking  around 
Peter  saw  his  father  coming  along  the  drive  toward 
him. 

11  Not  at  the  game  to-day,  Peter  ? "  exclaimed 
the  elder  man  in  surprise. 

"  No,  sir." 

"How  is  that?" 

"  I  did  not  feel  like  going,  Father." 

"  Not  feel  like  going !  Why,  that's  something 
new  for  you.  You're  not  sick  ?  " 

Peter  was  conscious  of  a  swift  scrutiny. 

"  I'm  worried  about  something,"  he  blurted 
out. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,  my  boy.  What  is  the 
trouble?  Grass  stains  on  your  new  white  tennis 
flannels  ?  " 

Peter  shook  his  head  in  reply  to  the  smiling 
question. 

"  It  is  a  real  trouble  this  time,"  he  answered. 

15 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Silently  he  drew  from  his  pocket  the  crumpled 
envelope  which  he  handed  to  his  father.  As  Mr. 
Coddington  took  out  the  card  and  scanned  it  rap- 
idly the  quizzical  expression  that  had  lighted  his 
face  gave  way  to  a  frown  of  displeasure. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  questioned. 

"  I'm  mighty  sorry,  Father,"  began  Peter.  "  You 
see  I  kept  thinking  I  would  make  up  my  work 
before  the  exams  came ;  but  somehow  I  have  been 
hustling  more  for  the  baseball  championship 
than " 

A  curt  question  cut  short  further  apologies  : 

"  Your  studies  have  not  been  too  difficult  for 
you,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  I  can  easily  make  them  up  with  a 
tutor,"  was  the  eager  response.  "  I  guess  if  you 
ask  Mr.  Christopher  he  will  let  me  take  the  exam- 
inations over  again  before  school  closes  and  the 
next  time " 

"  There  is  to  be  no  next  time,"  put  in  his  father 
quietly. 

Peter  stared. 

"  Wh-a-t — do — you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

16 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

"  You  will  see." 

Without  another  word  the  older  man  turned 
away.  Peter  saw  him  walk  to  the  garage,  and  a 
few  moments  later  the  motor-car  shot  past,  spun 
down  the  drive,  and  the  music  of  its  siren  horn 
announced  that  it  was  turning  into  the  street. 
Where  had  his  father  gone  so  suddenly  ? 

He  had  but  just  come  home,  and  it  was  never 
his  custom  to  dash  off  in  such  an  abrupt  fashion. 
It  was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  annoyed  about  the 
school  report.  That  was  not  strange — of  course 
he  would  be.  Peter  was  himself.  But  at  least 
Mr.  Coddington  had  not  lost  his  place  as  pitcher 
of  a  ball  team,  and  since  he  hadn't  there  seemed 
to  be  no  reason  why  he  should  be  so  cut  up. 
Then  an  inspiration  came  to  the  boy.  Perhaps 
his  father  had  gone  to  demand  that  Mr.  Christopher 
take  his  son  back  on  the  nine.  Ah,  that  must  be 
it !  His  father  was  much  interested  in  athletics 
Peter  knew,  and  when  in  college  had  pulled  the 
winning  shell  to  a  spectacular  victory  for  his  Alma 
Mater.  His  father  would  never  stand  by  and  see 
the  star  pitcher  of  the  Milburn  High  School  swept 

17 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

off  the  team  just  because  of  a  few  failures  in  Latin, 
algebra,  and  other  such  rubbish. 

Peter  drew  a  sigh  of  relief. 

Yes,  his  fortunate  star  would  rise  again  ;  he  was 
confident  of  it.  All  would  yet  be  well.  He  would 
tutor  up  for  the  examinations,  pass  them  glori- 
ously, and  win  back  his  place  on  the  team.  None 
of  the  fellows  need  be  the  wiser.  His  father 
would  fix  it  up — nay,  he  probably  was  fixing  it 
up  at  this  very  moment. 

Until  dusk  Peter  waited  anxiously  for  the  sound 
of  the  motor's  return. 

It  was  nearly  seven  when  over  the  gravel  rolled 
the  heavy  rubber-tired  wheels  that  announced  Mr. 
Coddington's  arrival.  The  boy  sat  in  precisely 
the  spot  where  his  father  had  left  him  and  after 
alighting  from  the  car  the  elder  man  made  his 
way  toward  the  motionless  figure  sitting  so  still 
in  the  June  twilight. 

"I  have  been  to  see  Mr.  Christopher,"  began 
Mr.  Coddington  when  he  came  within  speaking 
distance,  "  and  have  made  all  the  arrangements 

for  your  future  career." 

18 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

Eagerly  Peter  looked  up. 

"  I'm  going  back  on  the  team  ?  "  he  cried  joyously. 

"  You  are  going  to  work  !  "  was  the  sharp  retort. 

"  What  I  " 

"  I  have  been  very  busy  during  the  last  two 
hours,"  continued  Mr.  Coddington.  "  I  have  got 
for  you  the  first,  last,  and  only  job  I  shall  ever 
get.  It  is  up  to  you  now." 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  protested  Peter, 
aghast. 

"  Why  not  ?  It  is  not  a  difficult  thing  to  com- 
prehend. You  have  fooled  away  your  days  and 
my  money  long  enough.  Life  is  a  serious  business 
— not  a  game.  It  is  time  you  took  it  in  earnest. 
To-morrow  morning  at  eight  o'clock  you  are  going 
to  work,  and  you  must  make  good  at  the  position 
I've  found  for  you,  or  you  will  lose  your  place. 
If  you  do  I  shall  not  lift  a  finger  to  help  you  to 
find  another." 

A  great  lump  rose  in  Peter's  throat  but  he 
managed  to  choke  it  back. 

"  Where  am  I  going  ?  "  he  gasped  when  he  was 

able  to  speak. 

19 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  To  the  tannery,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

If  the  clouds  had  fallen  or  the  earth  opened 
Peter  could  not  have  been  more  astounded. 

The  tannery ! 

Of  course  he  knew  his  father  owned  the  vast 
tanneries  to  the  west  of  the  town,  for  that  was  the 
reason  the  Coddingtons  lived  at  Milburn  instead 
of  migrating  to  the  near-by  city,  as  had  so  many  of 
their  prosperous  neighbors ;  but  beyond  the  fact 
that  it  was  the  tanneries  which  indirectly  provided 
him  with  tennis  racquets,  skates,  bicycles,  motor- 
cars, and  spending  money  Peter  knew  nothing 
about  them.  They  were  red  brick  buildings  cover- 
ing a  wide  area,  and  from  their  doors  at  noon  and 
night  hundreds  of  workmen  with  lunch-boxes  and 
newspaper  bundles  poured  out  into  the  streets. 
Peter  never  spoke  of  the  tanneries.  Even  when, 
on  the  highway,  he  encountered  the  heavy  carts 
laden  with  hides  and  marked  "  H.  M.  Coddington, 
Leather,"  he  always  looked  the  other  way  and 
hurried  past  as  fast  as  he  could.  Occasionally  in 
hot  weather  when  the  wind  was  in  a  certain 

quarter  and  brought  a  faint  odor  from  the  beam- 

20 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

houses  into  the  fashionable  part  of  the  town  where 
Peter  lived  their  neighbors  complained,  and  the 
boy  always  felt  with  a  vague  sense  of  mortification 
that  everybody  blamed  him  and  his  family  for 
the  annoyance.  Sometimes  this  breath  of  damp, 
steamy  leather  even  forced  itself  in  at  the 
windows  of  the  Coddington  library  and  min- 
gled shamelessly  with  the  rich  hangings  and 
paintings  that  furnished  it.  Peter  always  re- 
sented the  intrusion.  How  dare  it  follow  them 
there ! 

Mr.  Coddington,  on  the  other  hand,  although 
not  reveling  in  the  unpleasant  tannery  smells, 
had  a  sincere  respect  for  the  industry  which  fur- 
nished him  his  living,  not  only  because  it  enabled 
him  to  provide  his  family  with  a  luxurious  home, 
but  also  because  he  regarded  it  as  a  life-work  that 
was  well  worth  the  doing.  Was  he  not  giving  to 
the  world  a  necessity  which  it  could  not  do  with- 
out? It  was  a  self-respecting  trade.  Therefore 
why  should  he  not  feel  there  was  dignity  in  the 
long  buildings  with  their  whirring  wheels,  their 
hundreds  of  busy  workmen,  and  their  ponderous 

21 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

green  trucks  which,  loaded  with  skins,  ever  rum- 
bled back  and  forth  through  the  main  street? 
His  pride  was  the  more  justifiable  since  alone,  and 
aided  only  by  his  brain  and  his  perseverance,  he 
himself  had  built  up  this  mighty  industry  which 
had  become  the  chief  support  of  the  flourishing 
little  New  England  town.  Milburn,  in  fact,  had 
grown  up  around  the  business  that  he  had  founded. 
From  the  lowest  rung  of  the  ladder  he  had  worked 
his  way  up  to  the  highest.  The  climb  had  been 
no  easy  one.  On  the  contrary  it  had  been  hard 
work.  How  could  he  help  but  feel  a  pride — nay, 
an  affection,  even,  for  the  great  throbbing  world 
of  labor  which  he  had  created,  and  which  fur- 
nished thousands  of  people  with  homes,  food  and 
clothing  I 

Since  this  was  his  point  of  view  it  naturally  was 
impossible  for  him  to  appreciate  the  horror  that 
his  words  brought  to  the  boy  who  sat  on  the  steps 
beside  him.  Peter  knew  his  father  too  well  to 
offer  protest  at  the  judgment  that  his  own  mis- 
deeds had  brought.  It  was  a  perfectly  fair  retri- 
bution. Moreover,  he  had  been  warned — Peter 

22 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

clearly  recalled  the  fact  now.  But  he  had  rushed 
blindly  on,  not  heeding  the  warning. 

"  The  tannery  ?  "  he  at  last  repeated  aloud. 

"  Yes.  That  is  where  I  began,  Peter,  and  it 
won't  hurt  you  to  do  the  same." 

"  Shan't  I  go  back  to  school  at  all  ?  " 

"  Not  for  the  present." 

"  And  the  school  team " 

"  It  must  get  on  without  you  as  best  it  may." 

Peter  fought  to  keep  back  the  tears. 

"  Will  everybody  know  ?  "  he  faltered  after  a 
pause. 

"  No.  I  simply  told  Mr.  Christopher  that  I  had 
decided  to  take  you  out  of  school.  He  k$ows 
nothing  more,  nor  does  any  one  else.  Now,  Peter, 
I  do  not  wish  you  to  take  this  as  a  punishment." 
Stooping,  Mr.  Coddington  put  his  hand  kindly  on 
the  lad's  shoulder.  "  In  so  far  as  it  is  the  conse- 
quence of  misspent,  wasted  time  it  is,  to  be  sure,  a 
punishment ;  none  of  us  can  escape  the  direct  re- 
sults of  our  own  actions.  In  another  sense,  how- 
ever, it  is  merely  a  fresh  opportunity — a  chance  to 
substitute  success  for  failure,  to  make  good  at  a 

23 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

different  kind  of  work.  It  is  in  this  light  that  you 
must  try  and  regard  it,  son.  I  want  to  make  a 
man  of  you  if  I  can.  I  must  make  a  man  of  you. 
You  are  the  only  child  I  have,  and  if  I  stand  by 
and  allow  you  to  make  a  fizzle  of  your  life  I  shall 
be  quite  as  much  to  blame  as  you.  ,  Remember 
that  unhappy  as  you  are  this  affair  is  costing  me 
something,  too." 

There  was  a  break  in  Mr.  Coddington's  voice. 

As  the  boy  raised  his  head  and  looked  into  the 
face  bending  over  him  he  read  in  it  an  expression 
quite  new — a  softness  and  sympathy  that  he  had 
never  before  caught  in  the  gray  eyes  which,  but  a 
moment  previous,  had  regarded  him  so  sternly. 

As  a  result  when  Peter  answered  much  of  the 
bitterness  had  crept  out  of  his  tone. 

"  I  suppose  all  the  men  at  the  factory  will  have 
to  know  who  I  am,"  he  reflected. 

"  I'm  afraid  so.  I  see  no  way  that  that  can  be 
avoided,"  assented  his  father. 

"  I  hate  to  have  them.  They  will  all  be  grin- 
ning over  the  knowledge  that  I  was  put  into  the 

factories  because  I  flunked  at  school.     Isn't  there 

24 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

any  way  to  prevent  their  knowing  ?  Couldn't  I 
take  another  name  when  I  go  into  the  tannery  and 
let  them  think  I  am  somebody  else  ?  " 

Mr.  Coddington  mused  a  few  seconds  before  an- 
swering. 

"  Why,  yes/7  he  replied  meditatively,  "  I  suppose 
it  could  be  done.  Nobody  knows  you  at  the  works, 
so  there  would  be  no  danger  of  your  being  recog- 
nized. My  plan  to  send  you  there  I  have  kept  to 
myself.  You  could  easily  enter  under  some  other 
name  if  you  chose.  You  must  consider,  however, 
that  if  you  decide  to  go  in  simply  as  an  ordinary 
boy  I  shall  not  be  able  to  help  you  much ;  nor  can 
you  expect  to  be  favored  in  any  way  by  the  men. 
You  will  have  to  stand  on  your  own  feet  and  take 
your  own  chances."  Again  Mr.  Coddington  ru- 
minated. "  That  might  not  be  a  bad  idea,  either," 
he  observed,  half  aloud. 

"Oh,  I  would  so  much  rather  take  another 
name,  Father,"  pleaded  Peter. 

But  Mr.  Coddington  did  not  heed  the  interrup- 
tion ;  he  was  still  thinking. 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  stand  behind  you  after  you 

25 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

are  in  the  tannery,  anyway,"  he  went  on.  "  In 
every  department  there  is  a  foreman  to  whom  you 
will  be  accountable — not  to  me.  Nor  must  you 
come  running  home  and  here  report  every  real  or 
fancied  injustiqe.  So  far  as  business  goes  I  am 
the  president  of  the  company  and  you  are  simply 
a  boy  in  my  employ.  Out  of  working  hours  we 
will  be  father  and  son  and  will  enjoy  our  drives, 
walks,  and  reading  together  just  as  we  have  in  the 
past.  One  rule,  however,  must  be  strictly  adhered 
to — we  will  not  talk  shop." 

"  I  understand,  sir,"  nodded  Peter. 

"Now  just  a  last  word,"  concluded  Mr.  Cod- 
dington.  "  To-morrow  morning  you  must  be 
prompt  at  the  works.  Eight  o'clock  is  the  hour 
you  are  to  present  yourself  and  that  does  not  mean 
before  eight  or  after  eight ;  it  means  on  the  stroke 
of  eight.  You  will  carry  a  luncheon  which  your 
mother  will  see  is  put  up  for  you.  You  are  to 
hand  to  Mr.  Tyler,  the  superintendent  of  Fac- 
tory 1,  a  card  bearing  my  signature  and  you  are  to 
say  to  him  that  you  are  the  boy  I  telephoned  him 

about.     He  does  not  know  who  you  are,  but  he 

26 


THE  THUNDERBOLT 

understands  that  I  am  interested  in  you  and  he 
will  start  you  in  wherever  he  thinks  best.  On  the 
card  I  shall  write  your  name — and  by  the  by  " — 
a  smile  flitted  over  Mr.  Coddington's  face — "  what 
is  your  name  to  be  ?  " 

Peter  hesitated ;  then  his  lips  curved  into  a  faint 
reflection  of  his  father's  merriment. 

"I  think  I  will  enter  the  tannery  as  Peter 
Strong,"  he  answered. 


27 


CHAPTER  II 
PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

_  HE  next  morning  when,  at  half-past 
six,  the  small  alarm  clock  at  his 
bedside  shot  off  with  metallic 
clangor  Peter  raised  himself  drows- 
ily on  his  elbow  and  glanced  about. 
What  had  happened?  What  was  all  this  jangling 
about  ?  In  a  second  more,  however,  he  recollected. 
This  was  the  day  when  school,  fun,  and  friends  were 
to  be  left  behind,  and  when  he  was  to  set  forth 
into  a  new  world.  He  was  going  to  work  I  Slowly, 
unwillingly,  with  a  vague  sinking  at  heart,  he 
dragged  himself  to  his  feet  and  listened.  It  was 
very  still.  All  the  world  appeared  to  have  stopped 

and   the  only  being  alive  in  the  great  universe 

28 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

seemed  to  be  himself.  He  prepared  to  dress. 
Half  automatically  he  turned  on  the  shower-bath. 
The  chill  of  the  cold  water  sent  a  tingle  over  him 
and  quickened  his  awakening  faculties.  Pulling 
on  his  clothes  he  crept  down  over  the  stairs.  It 
was  bad  enough  to  have  to  get  up  at  this  un- 
earthly hour  himself ;  he  at  least  need  not  disturb 
the  rest  of  the  household.  Of  course  his  father 
would  get  up  and  start  him  off. 

But  to  Peter's  surprise  nothing  of  this  sort  hap- 
pened. Instead  he  sat  down  alone  in  the  big 
dining-room  to  a  forlorn  breakfast,  at  the  conclu- 
sion of  which  the  waitress  laid  on  the  table  beside 
him  a  carefully  packed  lunch-box.  Now  Peter 
detested  taking  a  lunch.  Whenever  he  went  with 
his  parents  on  motor  trips  or  train  journeys  the 
family  always  stopped  at  hotels  for  their  meals  or 
patronized  the  dining-cars.  It  seemed  such  a  vul- 
gar thing  to  open  a  box  and  in  the  gaze  of  lookers 
on  devour  one's  food  out  of  it.  Accordingly  he 
eyed  the  lunch-box  with  disdain,  mentally  arguing 
that  although  he  must,  out  of  gratitude  to  his 

mother's    thoughtfulness,    carry   it,   he   certainly 

29 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

should  not  open  it.  He  would  far  rather  go  hun- 
gry than  eat  a  lunch  from  a  box ! 

On  the  porch  still  another  unpleasant  feature  of 
this  going  to  work  greeted  him.  No  motor-car, 
panting  like  a  hound  on  the  leash,  stood  waiting 
to  carry  him  to  the  factory.  Evidently  his  father 
had  made  no  provision  for  him  to  get  to  the  tan- 
nery. He  must  walk  !  So  entirely  unforeseen  was 
this  development  that  the  boy  stood  a  moment 
irresolute.  It  was  a  good  mile  to  the  tan  yards ; 
he  had  had  no  notion  of  walking,  and  there  was 
now  but  scant  time  in  which  to  cover  the  distance. 
Perhaps  his  father  had  forgotten  to  order  the  car. 
Peter  had  half  a  mind  not  to  go.  After  all  what 
difference  would  it  make  whether  he  went  to-day 
or  to-morrow?  In  fact,  why  wasn't  it  better  to 
delay  until  to-morrow  when  he  could  be  sure  of 
not  being  late?  He  vacillated  uneasily.  Then 
the  thought  of  what  his  father  would  say  when  he 
came  down  to  breakfast  and  found  that  his  son 
had  not  gone  decided  Peter. 

Down  two  steps  at  a  time  he  dashed  and  set  out 

over  the  gravel  drive  with  the  even  jog  of  a  track 

30 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

sprinter.  On  he  went.  Running  in  the  June 
sunshine  was  hot  work  ;  nevertheless,  hat  in  hand, 
he  kept  up  the  pace.  He  must  be  there  promptly 
at  eight,  his  father  had  told  him.  He  could  feel 
tiny  streams  of  perspiration  trickling  down  his 
back,  and  he  sensed  that  his  collar  was  wilting 
into  a  limp  band  of  flimsy  linen.  Still  he  ran  on. 
Eight  was  just  on  the  stroke  when  he  presented 
himself  at  the  office  of  Factory  1. 

A  stout  man  bending  over  a  ledger  at  a  desk 
near  the  door  eyed  the  panting  lad  with  dis- 
approval. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  he  demanded  sharply. 
"  Boys  are  not  admitted  in  this  office." 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Tyler,"  gasped  Peter. 

"Well,  you  can't,"  the  bookkeeper  responded 
acidly.  "  He's  busy.  If  you  are  wanting  a  job  I 
can  tell  you  right  now  that  there  are  none  to  be 
had.  We  have  more  boys  already  than  we  know 
what  to  do  with.  You  better  not  wait.  It  won't 
do  any  good." 

"  But  I  must  see  Mr.  Tyler,"  persisted  Peter. 
"  My  fa I  was  told  to  give  him  this  card." 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  you  had  a  card  in  the 
first  place  ?  "  was  the  gruff  question.  "  Give  it 
here.  You  can  sit  down  on  that  bench  and  wait." 

As  the  accountant  held  out  his  hand  Peter 
delivered  up  the  card. 

"  Peter  Strong — hump  !  "  read  the  bookkeeper. 
"  Sent  by — oh,  you're  sent  by  Mr.  Coddington,  are 
you  ?  Some  relative  of  his,  perhaps." 

"  Mr.  Coddington  said  I  was  to  present  the  card 
to  Mr.  Tyler,"  Peter  answered,  ignoring  the  im- 
plied query. 

"  He  shall  have  it  right  away,  Strong.  You'll 
excuse  my  brusqueness.  I  did  not  understand 
that  you  were  sent  here.  We  have  so  many 
young  boys  applying  for  work  that  we  have  to 
pack  them  off  in  short  order,"  explained  the  man 
glibly. 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  not  a  little  discom- 
fited at  the  chill  reception  he  had  accorded  Peter, 
for  he  anxiously  continued  to  reiterate  excuses 
and  apologies.  Fortunately  in  the  midst  of  his 
explanations  an  electric  bell  beside  his  desk  rang 

and  cut  him  short. 

32 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

"  That  is  Mr.  Tyler  now/7  he  murmured.  "  I'll 
take  in  your  card  right  away." 

Peter  watched  him  as  he  hurried  down  the 
center  of  the  long  room  and  disappeared  into  a 
little  glass  cage  in  the  corner. 

It  was  an  oblong  room  in  which  reigned  the  din 
of  typewriters.  Over  against  the  farther  wall  a 
dozen  or  more  men  were  bending  so  intently  over 
heavy,  leather- bound  ledgers  that  it  seemed  as  if 
they  must  have  sat  in  that  exact  spot  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world,  adding,  adding,  adding ! 
Vacantly  the  lad's  eye  wandered  along  to  the 
space  just  opposite  him  where,  framed  in  neat  oak, 
hung  a  printed  notice  headed  :  "  Labor  Laws  of 
the  State  of  Massachusetts."  For  the  want  of  a 
better  amusement  Peter  sauntered  over  and  began 
to  read.  The  length  of  the  working  day,  he 
gathered,  was  ten  hours  except  for  boys  under 
sixteen,  whom  the  law  forbade  working  longer 
than  eight  hours.  A  smile  passed  over  the  lad's 
face.  Eight  hours  was  surely  long  enough — from 
eight  until  twelve,  and  from  one  until  five.  What 
if  he  had  been  sixteen  instead  of  fifteen,  and  been 

33 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

forced  to  get  to  the  tannery  at  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning  and  work  until  six  at  night !  There 
must  be  boys  who  did.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
life  Peter  was  thankful  that  he  was  no  older. 

Just  at  this  moment  he  saw  the  bookkeeper  re- 
turning. 

"  If  you  please,  Strong,  "  said  the  older  man 
with  a  deference  that  contrasted  markedly  with 
his  former  greeting,  "  will  you  step  this  way?  Mr. 
Tyler  is  expecting  you." 

Peter  followed  through  the  central  aisle  of  the 
long  room  and  entered  the  small,  glass-enclosed 
space  where  a  man  surrounded  by  a  chaos  of 
papers  and  letters  was  sitting  at  a  roll- top  desk. 

"  This,  Mr.  Tyler,  is  young  Strong,"  announced 
the  bookkeeper  to  the  superintendent. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Strong." 

So  sharply  did  his  eye  sweep  over  Peter  that  the 
boy  trembled  lest  this  oracle  suddenly  announce : 

"  I  know  all  about  you.  Your  name  is  not 
Strong  at  all.  You  are  Peter  Coddington,  and  you 
have  been  sent  to  the  mill  because  you  flunked 

your  examinations." 

34 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

Nothing  of  the  sort  happened,  however.  The 
superintendent  merely  remarked  with  a  nod : 
"  That  will  do,  Carter.  You  may  go." 

Peter  heard  the  latch  click  as  Mr.  Carter  went 
out. 

"  Well,  young  man,  so  you  want  a  job  in  the 
tannery  ?  "  were  Mr.  Tyler's  next  words. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Mr.  Coddington  telephoned  me  about  you. 
He  told  me  that  you  are  entirely  inexperienced 
and  with  no  knowledge  of  the  business.  I  should 
say  the  only  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  begin  at  the 
very  bottom  of  the  ladder,  if  you  want  to  make 
anything  of  yourself." 

"  I  suppose  so,  sir." 

The  superintendent  tilted  back  in  his  chair  and 
carefully  studied  the  lad  before  him. 

"  You  look  able-bodied." 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir." 

"  Not  afraid  of  work  ?  " 

Peter  hesitated. 

"  I  don't  mind  working  if  I  like  what  I'm  do- 
ing, sir,"  he  replied  with  naive  truthfulness. 

35 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

It  was  obvious  that  the  honest  reply  pleased  Mr. 
Tyler. 

"  I  guess  that  is  the  way  with  many  of  us, 
Strong,"  he  laughed.  "  But  if  you  are  to  have  a 
position  here  you  will  have  to  stick  at  your  work 
whether  you  like  it  or  not." 

"  I  mean  to  try  to." 

"  That's  the  proper  spirit.  You  are  not  afraid 
of  getting  your  hands  dirty  ?  " 

Peter  laughed  contemptuously.  Later  he  re- 
membered that  laugh  and  smiled  grimly  at  his 
own  ignorance. 

Mr.  Tyler  seemed  satisfied. 

"Well,  I  can  set  you  to  work  right  away  un- 
loading skins,"  he  said.  "  We  are  short-handed 
and  can  use  a  boy  to  advantage.  Are  you  over 
sixteen  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  am  fifteen." 

"  That's  bad.  I  don't  like  to  take  these  eight- 
hour  boys.  The  time  we  want  workmen  most  is 
in  the  early  morning  and  at  closing  time.  Those 
are  the  very  hours  you  under-age  fellows  are  not 
here.  However,  since  you  have  come  at  Mr.  Cod- 

36 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

dington's  recommendation  we'll  have  to  get  on 
without  you  the  best  way  we  can.  Strong,  your 
name  is !  Do  you  know  Mr.  Coddington  person- 
ally ?  " 

"  I've  known  him  all  my  life,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  you  know  an  honest,  upright  gentle- 
man," declared  Mr.  Tyler  warmly.  "  His  friend- 
ship is  well  worth  having  and  a  possession  to  be 
proud  of.  Take  care  you  do  not  disappoint  him." 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  disappoint  him,"  was  Peter's 
quick  reply.  "  He  told  me,  though,  that  after  he 
got  me  the  place  he  should  not  do  anything  more 
for  me.  I've  got  to  make  good  myself.  He's  the 
president  of  the  company  and  I  am  just  a  boy  in 
the  works." 

Unconsciously  the  lad  repeated  his  father's  very 
words. 

"  That's  right.  That's  the  way  to  go  at  it,"  the 
superintendent  assented  cordially.  "  It  is  very 
kind  of  Mr.  Coddington  to  bother  his  head  about 
you  at  all,  for  he  is  such  a  busy  man  that  he  has 
more  things  to  remember  in  a  day  than  most  of 
the  rest  of  us  have  ever  thought  of  in  all  our  lives. 

37 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

After  you  once  get  in  here  he,  of  course,  can't  take 
the  time  to  follow  you  up.  Having  done  you  the 
favor  of  giving  you  a  start  he  will  drop  you  from 
his  mind.  You  cannot,  expect  anything  else  and 
I  am  glad  you  have  common  sense  enough  to  see 
it." 

At  the  thought  of  his  father  "  dropping  him 
from  his  mind  "  Peter  smiled  inwardly.  Of  course 
Mr.  Tyler  could  not  see  the  smile,  and  even  if  he 
had  he  would  not  have  understood  it.  As  it  was 
he  now  cut  short  the  interview  by  touching  a  bell 
at  his  elbow  in  response  to  which  a  messenger  ap- 
peared. 

"Take  this  boy  down  to  the  yard,  Johnson,"  he 
said.  "  Introduce  him  to  Carmachel  and  tell  him 
he  is  to  help  unload  skins.  His  name  is  Strong. 
Good  luck  to  you,  young  man.  Remember  the 
world  is  a  large  place  and  there  are  plenty  of  fine 
positions  waiting  for  the  men  who  prove  themselves 
big  enough  to  fill  them." 

Peter  took  the  superintendent's  hand  but  he 
forgot  to  answer.  Somehow  Mr.  Tyler's  words 

awakened    a    train  of  thoughts  which   were   so 

38 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

entirely  new  that  he  could  not  immediately  drive 
them  from  his  mind.  So  the  great  universe  of 
work  demanded  that  you  should  fill  your  position, 
not  rattle  round  in  it !  The  mere  fact  that  one 
had  a  rich  father  did  not  help  much  then  after 
all.  It  might  aid  you  in  keeping  your  job, 
to  be  sure,  but  it  could  not  aid  you  in  doing  it. 
Evidently  at  the  Coddington  tanneries  there  were 
plenty  of  men  ready  to  take  your  chance  if  you 
were  not  smart  enough  to  hold  on  to  it  yourself. 
Peter  decided  that  it  behooved  him  to  "  hustle." 
It  was  a  novel  sensation  to  feel  this  spur  to  action. 

As  he  thus  philosophized  he  was  following  his 
guide,  who  now  turned  down  a  flight  of  steep  steps 
into  a  yard  slippery  with  black  mud  and  deeply 
rutted  by  the  wheels  of  heavy  wagons.  A  double 
track  with  a  row  of  freight  cars  flanked  the  build- 
ing opposite,  and  from  these  cars  a  group  of  men 
were  unloading  bundles  of  skins  and  tossing  them 
on  the  platform.  The  men  were  dressed  in  faded 
jumpers  and  overalls  and  some  of  them  wore 
rubber  aprons. 

They  glanced  up  an  instant  as  Peter  drew  near. 

39 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Carmachel,"  called  the  man  who  was  showing 
the  way,  "  this  young  fellow  is  to  help  at  unload- 
ing and  later,  the  boss  says,  he  is  to  watch  you 
fellows  sort  skins.  He  is  a  green  lad  and,"  added 
the  messenger  with  a  grin  of  enjoyment  at  some 
joke  that  Peter  did  not  at  all  comprehend,  "  his 
name  is  Strong." 

Carmachel,  a  grizzled  Irishman,  looked  up — a 
twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  It's  Strong  he'll  have  to  be  if  he  is  to  work 
here,"  he  answered  with  a  chuckle  in  which  the 
others  joined.  "  I  say,  young  one,"  he  continued 
kindly,  "  you're  not  figuring  on  unloading  skins 
in  those  clothes,  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  was,"  replied  Peter,  nodding. 

"  Well,  before  you  begin,  you  better  have  another 
think.  It  will  be  the  end  of  your  glad  rags.  It's 
truth  I'm  tellin'  you.  Step  inside  the  doorway 
and  wriggle  yourself  into  those  brown  jeans  you'll 
see  hangin'  there." 

Peter  went  in. 

He  took  down  the  jeans  from  a  peg  behind  the 

door.     The  clothes  were  dirty,  sticky   with  salt, 

40 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

and  in  them  lingered  a  loathsome  aroma  of  wet 
hides.  Instinctively  he  shrank  from  touching 
them.  Then,  gritting  his  teeth,  he  put  them  on. 
This  he  did  more  out  of  appreciation  for  the  rough 
kindliness  of  the  old  Irishman  than  because  he 
feared  to  injure  his  clothes  ;  his  father  would  give 
him  plenty  more  suits  if  that  one  was  spoiled. 

When  he  went  out  on  the  platform  Carmachel 
eyed  him. 

"  That's  more  like  it,"  he  said.  "  Now  get  busy. 
We  want  to  pull  these  cars  out  of  the  yard  by 
noon.  Step  lively." 

Peter  crossed  the  wet,  slippery  platform  to  the 
car  where  the  other  men  were  working.  The 
skins  were  folded  neatly  and  tied  with  stout  cord. 
He  lifted  the  bundle  nearest  at  hand,  then  dropped 
it.  It  was  solid,  sticky,  and  damp. 

"  They're  wet !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  For  certain  they're  wet !  "  roared  the  Irishman 
with  a  noisy  guffaw.  "  You're  as  green  as  the 
skins  themselves — greener,  for  you  are  not  even 
salted." 

The  gang  on  the  platform  shouted  at  the  joke. 

41 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Peter's  anger  rose,  but  he  struggled  to  take  their 
chaffing  in  good  part. 

"  You  see,  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  all  this 
business,"  confessed  he,  frankly.  "  You  fellows 
who  do  will  have  to  tell  me." 

The  answer  struck  the  right  note  with  the  men. 

"  How  could  you  be  expected  to  know,  sonny  ?  " 
called  a  red-faced  Swede  kindly.  "  Every  boy  who 
comes  into  the  tannery  has  to  learn." 

"  Pitch  a  few  skins  out  of  the  car,  lad,  while 
I  tell  you  some  things,"  broke  in  Carmachel. 
"  You  are  unloading  calfskins ;  that's  the  only 
kind  we  tan  at  Factory  1.  Over  at  Factory  2 
they  tan  sheepskins,  and  at  Factory  3  cowhides. 
In  each  of  these  factories  the  skins  are  treated  and 
prepared  for  the  trade  quite  differently,  as  you 
will  learn  by  and  by  if  you  have  the  chance  to 
go  through  the  other  buildings.  These  calfskins 
that  we  are  unloading  came  from  the  Chicago 
slaughter-houses,  where  as  soon  as  they  were 
taken  off  the  animals  they  were  salted  ;  folded 
with  the  head,  tail,  and  small  parts  inside ;  tied 

in  bales  such  as  you  see  ;  and  shipped.     They  are 

42 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

what  we  call  green-salted.  We  also  get  green- 
salted  skins  from  the  abattoirs  of  the  city  of  Paris, 
and  from  lots  of  other  places,  too.  Sometimes, 
though,  skins  are  salted  green  and  are  then  dried 
like  those  you  saw  piled  up  in  the  shed  ;  those 
we  call  dry-salted.  They  came  from  Norway, 
Sweden,  and  South  America.  Then  we  have 
dry  hides  which  are  dried  without  being  salted 
at  all.  Remember  now — green-salted,  dry-salted, 
and  dry." 

Peter  repeated  the  terms. 

At  the  same  time  he  did  his  share  in  tossing 
the  heavy  bales  of  moist  skins  to  the  platform. 
It  was  strenuous  work.  Before  an  hour  was  up 
his  back  and  arms  ached  with  the  unaccustomed 
exercise.  Tennis  and  football  were  as  nothing  to 
this !  Still  he  went  on  uncomplainingly.  His 
unflagging  energy  appealed  to  the  men. 

"  Knock  off,  lad,  and  rest  a  bit,"  called  Car- 
machel  at  last.  "  You're  not  toughened  to  this 
job  as  we  are.  It's  a  precious  lame  back  you'll 
have  to-morrow  if  you  keep  at  it  like  this  the  first 
time." 

43 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Gratefully  Peter  straightened  up  and  took  a  long 
breath.  Then  he  glanced  at  his  hands. 

"  You'll  be  losing  your  gentlemanly  white 
hands,  if  that's  what's  worrying  you,"  grinned 
Carmachel,  reading  his  thoughts  with  discon- 
certing keenness. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  afraid  of  my  hands,"  replied 
Peter,  mortified  at  being  detected  in  such  a 
foolish  reflection.  "  I  was  just  thinking  that 
they  are  beginning  to  look  the  part." 

"  If  you  are  aiming  to  work  up  through  the 
tannery  they'll  likely  look  the  part  more  by  the 
time  you've  got  a  few  coats  of  lime  and  blacking 
on  them,"  was  Carmachel's  dry  response.  "  Now 
we'll  let  the  others  finish  this  work.  You  come 
inside  and  you  shall  have  a  new  job.  You've 
done  enough  unloading  for  your  first  day." 

Obediently  Peter  followed  into  the  shed,  where 
other  men  were  busy  cutting  the  cords  from  round 
the  skins,  looking  them  over,  and  tossing  some 
into  one  pile  and  some  into  another. 

"  These  fellows  that  you  see  are  sorting  the  calf- 
skins according  to  their  weight,"  explained  Car- 

44 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

machel.  "  We  get  them  flat — by  that  I  mean 
that  when  the  bales  are  made  up  all  sizes  and 
qualities  of  skins  are  tied  in  together.  These 
men  put  the  fine,  heavy  ones  in  one  pile,  the 
medium  weight  in  another,  the  light  weight  in 
another,  the  imperfect  ones  in  another,  and 


so   on." 


"  I  do  not  see  how  they  can  tell  so  quickly," 
said  Peter. 

"  They  couldn't  if  they  hadn't  done  it  a  good 
many  times  before.  They  are  skilled  men. 
Watch  them.  It  does  not  take  them  many  min- 
utes to  determine  the  value  of  a  skin." 

11  And  what  are  those  other  men  doing?"  Peter 
questioned,  pointing  to  a  group  of  workmen  who 
were  engaged  in  swiftly  cutting  off  parts  of  the 
skins  with  long  knives. 

"  Oh,  they  are  taking  off  the  heads  and  other 
good-for-nothing  parts  which  are  sold  for  glue 
stock.  Nothing  is  wasted  in  a  tannery,  let  me 
tell  you !  After  the  skins  leave  this  room  they 
will  be  sent  to  the  beamhouse,  where  they  will 
be  soaked  in  water  until  all  the  dirt  and  salt  is 

45 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

out  of  them.  Usually  this  takes  from  twenty-four 
to  forty-eight  hours." 

"  What's  the  beamhouse  ?  "  was  Peter's  query. 

"The  beamhouse?  I'll  not  be  telling  you. 
'Twould  be  a  sin  to  spoil  your  first  sight  of  it." 
Carmachel  shook  his  head.  "  No,  young  one,  I'll 
tell  you  nothing  of  the  beamhouse.  You'll  find 
out  in  time.  There's  many  a  pleasant  spot  await- 
ing you  in  this  tannery." 

A  general  snicker  went  around. 

Again  Peter  did  not  understand. 

"  Now,"  declared  Carmachel  briskly,  "  you  have 
idled  long  enough.  Take  that  knife  and  go  to 
cutting  the  twine  from  those  bales  of  skins." 

At  this  task  the  boy  worked  faithfully  until  the 
noon  whistle  blew.  At  its  first  blast  all  the 
men  dropped  what  they  were  doing  and  Peter, 
who  did  the  same,  followed  them  into  a  wash- 
room, where  he  scoured  his  hands  with  sand  soap. 
Somehow  he  did  not  feel  as  scornful  toward  his 
box  of  lunch  as  he  had  when  he  had  tucked  it  un- 
der his  arm  in  the  early  morning.  Instead  he 
made  his  way  out  into  the  vacant  field  opposite 

46 


A  MATCH  WAS  UNDER  WAY 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

where  he  saw  the  men  congregating,  and  sitting 
down  in  the  shade  of  one  of  the  factories,  lifted 
the  tin  cover  with  keenest  anticipation.  How 
good  it  seemed  to  rest,  and  how  faint  he  was  !  He 
devoured  the  food  hurriedly  with  the  quick  greed 
of  hunger.  He  then  glanced  about  him.  Some 
boys  and  men  were  sauntering  with  bat  and  ball 
out  into  the  open  field.  Apparently  a  noontide 
game  was  a  part  of  the  daily  program,  for 
two  nines  were  quickly  organized  and  a  match 
was  under  way  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  The 
other  workmen  drew  near  to  watch  the  play  and 
so  did  Peter.  He  wondered  how  any  one  could 
summon  energy  enough  to  toss  a  ball.  They 
couldn't  be  as  tired  as  he  was !  The  game  began. 
Before  it  had  proceeded  beyond  the  first  inning 
it  was  obvious  that  the  teams  were  unevenly 
matched. 

"  It's  the  sheepskins  against  the  calfskins — 
Factory  1  against  Factory  2,"  explained  a  man 
at  his  elbow.  "  Factory  1  could  do  'em  if  we  had 
a  decent  pitcher.  O'Brien,  who  is  pitching,  isn't 

much  even  when  he's  in  the  best  of  trim ;  to-day 

48 


PETER  WINS  ANOTHER  NAME 

he  happens  to  have  a  sprained  finger,  so  he's  worse 
than  usual." 

Instantly  Peter  was  alert.  Wasn't  he  Factory  1  ? 
He  forgot  his  fatigue — forgot  everything  except 
how  it  felt  to  pitch  when  one  had  a  sprained 
finger. 

"  I  can  pitch  a  ball,"  he  ventured  modestly. 

"  Can  you  then  ?  O'Brien  I  "  bawled  the  man. 
"  Here's  a  lad  who  says  he  can  pitch.  Give  him  a 
try,  won't  you  ?  " 

Despite  aching  muscles  and  tired  back  Peter 
suddenly  found  himself  on  the  diamond  with  the 
ball  in  his  hands.  It  was  the  first  familiar  expe- 
rience that  had  come  to  him  that  day.  His  blood 
warmed.  He  sent  a  twirler  over  the  plate  and  was 
greeted  by  a  roar  from  the  Factory  1  men.  The 
ball  dropped  with  a  smack  into  the  hands  of  the 
catcher. 

Peter  tried  another. 

He  pitched  a  third. 

Vainly  the  man  at  the  bat  tried  to  hit  them. 

"  Three  strikes  and  out !  "  called  the  umpire. 

The  crowd  cheered. 

49 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

On  went  the  game. 

"  Who's  pitching  ?"  asked  one  man  of  another. 

Nobody  knew. 

"  Carmachel  says  his  name  is  Strong,"  some  one 
at  last  informed  the  workmen. 

"  Hurrah  for  little  Strong  !  "  yelled  a  big  Swede. 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  Little  Giant !  "  piped  a 
shrill  voice. 

On  every  hand  the  cry  was  taken  up. 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  Little  Giant !  " 

Then  suddenly  the  one  o'clock  whistle  sounded. 
Peter  came  back  to  the  realities  of  life.  He 
dropped  his  gloves.  Already,  as  if  the  earth  had 
opened,  players  and  audience  had  vanished.  In 
through  the  waiting  doors  of  the  tanneries  filed 
the  men.  But  Peter  Coddington  had  won  a  place 
for  himself,  and  with  it  a  new  name.  Henceforth 
throughout  the  works  he  was  known  as  "  The  Lit- 
tle Giant." 


CHAPTER  III 
A  NEW  FEIEND 


OR  a  week  Peter  worked  patiently 
cutting  ropes  from  freshly  received 
shipments  of  skins,  trimming  the 
skins,  and  learning  to  sort  them. 
Every  night  he  went  home  ex- 
hausted after  his  day's  work.  Sometimes  it  was 
hard  to  realize  that  he  was  the  same  boy  who,  but  a 
short  time  before,  had  jauntily  sauntered  out  to 
play  tennis  every  evening  with  his  classmates.  He 
couldn't  have  played  tennis  now  had  he  tried,  and 
he  was  not  sorry  when  the  rumor  reached  him  that 
it  was  commonly  reported  at  the  high  school  that  he 
had  been  sent  away  to  a  distant  military  academy. 
So  that  was  the  reason  why  the  fellows  had  not 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

hunted  him  up  1  Perhaps  it  was  just  as  well.  It 
saved  many  embarrassing  questions,  and  he  was 
much  too  worn  out  when  night  came  to  do  any- 
thing but  fall  into  his  bed.  Still  he  did  not  com- 
plain of  his  fatigue.  He  was  too  proud  to  do  that. 
Moreover  had  he  not  brought  the  entire  situation 
upon  himself?  He  would  swallow  his  medicine 
in  silence. 

But  he  knew  from  his  mother's  troubled  ques- 
tions; from  her  unusual  care  that  his  luncheon 
be  tempting  and  nourishing ;  from  the  solicitous 
gaze  she  fixed  on  him  that  the  present  ordeal 
worried  her  not  a  little.  Once  he  overheard  her 
say  to  his  father :  "  The  boy  isn't  strong  enough 
to  stand  it !  He  will  be  ill."' 

"Don't  have  any  anxiety  about  Peter,"  was 
the  retort.  "  The  young  scoundrel  finds  energy 
enough,  I  hear,  to  play  ball  with  the  men  every 
noon  time.  He  is  the  star  pitcher  of  Factory  1." 
A  chuckle  came  from  the  older  man.  "It  is  some- 
thing of  a  joke,  too,"  he  continued,  "  for  I  thought 
I  had  put  him  beyond  all  possible  range  of  a  bat 
and  ball,  Don't  fret  any  more  about  him.  Let 

52 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

him  alone.     He  is  showing  more  pluck  than  I 
dreamed  he  possessed." 

"  But  suppose  he  should  overdo." 

"  He  won't  overdo." 

And  the  prediction  was  true.  Tired  as  he  was 
every  night  Peter  awoke  in  the  morning  entirely 
refreshed.  The  lameness  of  back  and  muscles 
soon  wore  away.  At  the  end  of  the  week,  when 
he  received  his  first  pay  envelope,  no  boy  in  the 
wide  world  ever  felt  as  rich  as  he.  Six  dollars  ! 
Six  dollars  of  his  very  own !  To  be  sure  his  fa- 
ther had  often  given  him  twice  that  amount ;  but 
receiving  it  as  a  present  was  a  vastly  different 
matter  from  earning  it. 

"  I  mean  to  save  up  for  a  motorcycle,"  Peter 
declared.  "  Then  I  could  ride  to  the  tannery 
every  day." 

"  So  you  could,"  agreed  Mr.  Coddington.  "  It 
is  not  a  bad  idea.  Don't  forget,  though,  that  you 
will  be  needing  clothes  now  and  then.  You  spoke 
last  night  of  wanting  some  flannel  shirts  to  wear 
to  work." 

"  Yes,  but  you " 

53 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Mr.  Coddington  shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  bought  your  clothes  up  to  this  time," 
he  answered,  "  but  now  that  you  have  a  salary  of 
your  own  it  is  time  you  relieved  me  of  that  ex- 
pense." 

"  Oh — of — of — course,"  Peter  stammered.  "  I 
guess,  though,  I  can  get  the  motorcycle  and  pay 
for  my  clothes,  too,  without  any  trouble.  How 
much  do  clothes  cost?" 

"  Let  me  see !  "  Mr.  Coddington  took  out  a 
small  expense  book  and  turned  its  pages  rapidly. 
"  Clothing  for  Peter.  Here  it  is.  Last  year  I 
spent  for  you  $638." 

"  For  me  !  For  my  clothes  ?  "  gasped  the  boy. 
"  Did  I  spent  $638  ?  Why,  I  had  no  idea  of  it  1 
I  could  have  gone  without  some  of  those  overcoats 
and  things  as  well  as  not  if  I  had  known  they  cost 
so  much.  That's  an  awful  lot  for  a  boy  to  spend, 
isn't  it  ?  " 

"  It's  a  plenty." 

"  Why,  it's  more  than  I  will  earn  in  a  whole 
year." 

"  Yes,  I  am  afraid  it  is — at  least,  for  the  present." 

54 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

Peter  was  thoughtful. 

"  I  can  see  that  it's  good-bye  to  the  motorcycle," 
he  said  at  last,  disappointment  in  every  feature. 

With  an  impulsive  gesture  Mr.  Coddington 
thrust  his  hand  into  the  breast  pocket  where  his 
check-book  lay ;  then  resolutely  took  out  the  hand 
and  put  it  behind  him. 

"  There  seems  to  be  no  way  but  for  you  to  do 
without  a  motorcycle  for  a  while,  son,"  he  replied. 
"  Do  not  be  discouraged,  though.  You  are  now 
pretty  well  stocked  with  the  necessary  clothing 
and  in  consequence  will  not  require  many  new 
things  for  some  time.  If  you  are  not  too  proud  to 
wear  your  old  suits  to  work  you  can  easily  put 
aside  some  money  each  week." 

"  I  do  not  care  how  old  and  shabby  my  clothes 
are,"  smiled  Peter.  "  It  does  not  make  much  dif- 
ference what  I  wear  to  the  tannery  if  I  can  just 
have  some  flannel  shirts,  overalls,  and  rubber 
boots.  I've  packed  away  my  white  tennis  suits  in 
moth-balls,  you  know,  since  I  went  into  the  mill." 

They  both  laughed. 

As  flannel  shirts  and  overalls  were  inexpensive 

55 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

and  easily  obtained,  and  as  Peter  already  had  rub- 
ber boots  it  was  possible  to  begin  the  saving  for  the 
motorcycle  without  further  delay. 

In  the  meantime  orders  came  that  Strong  was  to 
leave  his  task  of  trimming  skins  and  present  him- 
self at  the  beamhouse.  Reluctantly  he  bade  fare- 
well to  Carmachel  and  the  other  men — his  first 
friends  at  the  tannery — and  on  the  following  Mon- 
day morning  he  made  his  way  into  the  long,  low 
room  where  he  had  been  told  the  skins  were 
tanned.  The  room  was  a  revelation,  and  a  none 
too  pleasant  one  at  that !  If  he  had  thought  the 
unloading  and  sorting  department  unsavory  what 
should  he  say  of  this  ?  The  floor  of  the  beam- 
house  was  slippery  with  water,  lime,  and  tanning 
solutions ;  unpleasant  fumes  of  wet  skins  made 
heavy  the  air ;  revolving  paddle-wheels  suspended 
from  the  ceiling  dripped  upon  the  passer-by  ;  and 
men,  dragging  saturated  skins  from  vats  in  the 
floor,  piled  them  in  heaps  where  the  water  oozing 
from  them  trickled  out  into  the  general  sloppiness 
and  transformed  the  floor  into  a  great  shallow  pool 
of  moisture.  Back  and  forth  through  this  wetness 

56 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

moved  workmen  who,  as  they  wheeled  barrows  of 
freshly  tanned  skins,  left  a  wake  of  slime  behind 
them.  Peter  looked  about  in  consternation.  The 
steaming  odor  of  the  room  was  nauseating  and 
filled  him  with  disgust.  Could  he  stand  it  ?  And 
they  called  this  a  promotion  I  What  wonder  that 
Carmachel  had  chuckled  when  asked  what  the 
beamhouse  was  ! 

As  Peter  stood  hesitating,  a  prey  to  these  con- 
fused impressions,  a  lad  about  his  own  age  touched 
him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Bryant,  the  foreman,  wants  to  speak  to  you," 
he  said. 

Peter  roused  himself  and  followed  the  boy. 

In  a  corner  of  the  room  the  foreman  greeted 
him. 

"How  are  you,  Strong?"  he  began.  "You  see 
you  are  no  stranger  to  me,  for  I  have  watched  you 
play  ball  at  noon  time.  I  am  glad  we  are  to  have 
you  in  our  department." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  Yes,  Mr.  Tyler  said  I  was  to 
report  here  for  the  present." 

"  That's  good.  We  can  put  you  to  work,  all 

57 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

right.  Before  you  begin,  however,  I  should  like 
to  have  you  look  about  and  get  an  idea  what  we 
do  in  here.  A  man  always  enjoys  his  work  better 
and  does  it  more  intelligently,  I  contend,  if  he  has 
some  notion  of  the  process  in  which  he  is  to  have 
a  share.  Jackson  is  about  your  age  and  has  been 
in  this  room  a  long  time."  (He  indicated  the  boy 
at  Peter's  elbow.)  "  Suppose  he  takes  you  around 
and  shows  you  what  happens  to  the  skins  after 
they  are  sent  in  here  to  us." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

Jackson  seemed  pleased  at  the  task  assigned 
him. 

"  I'm  glad  you  are  coming  into  the  beamhouse 
to  work,  Strong,"  he  ventured  timidly.  "  There 
are  not  many  boys  here  my  age.  You  won't  like 
it  at  first,  I'm  afraid,  but  you  will  soon  get  used  to 
it." 

"I  don't  believe  I  shall  like  it  at  all,"  was 
Peter's  rueful  reply.  "  It's  an  awful  place,  isn't 
it?" 

"  Oh,  it's  not  so  bad  as  it  seems.  You  won't 
mind  it — really  you  won't.  Of  course  the  smell 

58 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

is  disagreeable  and  it  is  wet  and  sloppy,  too  ;  but 
Bryant,  the  foreman,  is  a  mighty  white  fellow  and 
the  men,  although  mostly  foreigners,  are  pleasant 
enough.  I  myself  was  so  thankful  to  get  any  work 
that  I  did  not  much  care  what  it  was." 

"  Have  you  been  here  long  ?  "  questioned  Peter. 

"  Ever  since  I  was  old  enough  to  go  to  work — a 
year  this  August." 

"  And  you've  been  in  this  room  all  that  time  1 " 

"  Yes.  It  takes  quite  a  while  to  get  a  promotion 
here  at  the  tannery.  My  pay  has  been  raised  to 
nine  dollars,  though.  Maybe  I  wasn't  glad  to  get 
the  money !  You  see,  I  support  my  mother." 
Jackson  threw  back  his  head  proudly. 

"You?  You  support  yourself  and  your 
mother  ?  "  repeated  Peter  incredulously. 

"  Sure  I  do  !     Why  not  ?  " 

"  But  you — why,  you  are  not  much  older  than 
I  am !  " 

"  I'm  sixteen.  Mother  and  I  get  on  very  well 
on  what  I  earn,  even  though  it  isn't  much.  Don't 
you  have  anybody  to  take  care  of?  " 

"  No." 

59 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Jackson  regarded  Peter  with  astonishment. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  be  rich  as  a  lord  if 
you  have  all  your  money  to  yourself  1 "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  What  on  earth  do  you  find  to  do  with 
it?" 

Once — and  the  time  was  not  far  passed,  either — 
Peter  would  have  laughed  at  the  naive  question  ; 
now  he  answered  gravely  : 

"  Oh,  I  am  saving  some  of  it." 

"  That's  right.  I  can't  save  a  cent  at  present, 
but  some  time  I  hope  to  get  a  better  salary  and 
then  I  shall  be  able  to.  Now  let's  go  over  to  the 
other  end  of  the  room  and  see  where  they  are  put- 
ting the  skins  to  soak  in  those  big  vats  of  water  to 
get  out  the  salt  and  dirt.  That's  the  first  thing 
they  do  after  the  skins  are  sent  into  the  beam- 
house.  You  remember  how  stiff  and  hard  the  dry 
skins  were  when  you  unloaded  them.  Well,  they 
are  put  into  the  great  revolving  wooden  drums 
that  you  see  overhead  and  are  worked  about  in 
borax  and  water  until  they  become  soft.  They 
are  washed,  too.  Then  after  all  the  skins  have 

been  washed  and  softened  they  are  thrown  into 

60 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

lime  and  are  left  there  until  the  fibre  swells  and 
the  hair  is  loosened.  The  men  you  see  with  rubber 
gloves  on  are  the  limers.  If  they  did  not  wear 
gloves  they  would  get  their  hands  burned  and 
raw,  for  the  lime  and  the  chemicals  used  in  the 
tan  often  make  the  hands  and  arms  very  sore." 

"  But  I  don't  see  that  the  skins  that  are  tossed 
into  the  lime  pits  come  out  with  the  hair  off," 
objected  Peter. 

"  Bless  your  heart — the  lime  does  not  take  the 
hair  off.  The  men  who  unhair  them  have  to  do 
that.  They  lay  the  wet  skins  out  on  boards  and 
with  sharp  knives  pull  and  scrape  off  all  the  white 
hair." 

"  Why  don't  they  take  off  the  brown  or  black 
hair  as  well  ?  " 

"  Because  only  the  white  hair  is  removed  by 
hand.  That  is  kept  separate  and  after  being  dried 
is  sold  to  dealers  for  a  good  price.  The  colored 
hair  is  taken  off  by  machinery  and  is  sold  too,  but 
it  is  not  so  valuable." 

"  I   suppose  plasterers  can  use  hair  like  that/' 

speculated  Peter. 

61 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Yes,  and  upholsterers,"  added  Jackson. 

Peter  smiled. 

"  Carmachel  told  me  nothing  in  a  tannery  was 
wasted,"  he  said.  "  I  was  surprised  to  find  that 
even  the  lumps  of  fat  and  bits  of  flesh  adhering  to 
the  skins,  together  with  the  parings  that  came  off 
when  the  calfskins  were  trimmed  down  to  an  even 
thickness,  were  disposed  of  for  glue  stock  or  fer- 
tilizer." 

"  Every  scrap  of  stuff  is  used,  I  can  tell  you  !  " 
assented  Jackson.  "  Calfskin,  you  know,  is  never 
split ;  it  is  not  heavy  enough  for  that.  Besides  it 
is  more  nearly  uniform  in  weight  than  a  skin  like 
a  bull's  hide,  for  instance,  which  is  very  much 
heavier  about  the  head.  No,  calfskin  is  fairly 
even  and  therefore,  while  wet,  is  just  put  between 
rollers  where  a  thin,  sharp  blade  shaves  from  the 
flesh  side  any  part  of  it  that  is  thicker  than  any 
other.  It  comes  out  of  equal  thickness  all  over. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

Peter  nodded. 

"  And   now  have  you  this  beamhouse  process 

straight  in  your  head  so  we  can  go  on  ?  " 

62 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

Jackson  held  up  his  hand  and  began  to  check 
off  the  successive  steps  on  his  fingers  : 

"  The  skins  are  washed  until  the  dirt  and  salt  are 
out;  they  are  worked  in  paddle-wheels,  if  necessary, 
until  soft ;  they  are  limed  ;  unhaired  ;  and  bated, 
or  puered.  By  puering  I  mean  that  they  are  put 
through  a  liquid  that  takes  out  all  the  lime ;  if  the 
lime  is  not  carefully  soaked  out  the  skins  will  be 
burned  and  hard  and  cannot  be  tanned  properly. 
After  the  puering  the  short-hairers  remove  any 
remaining  hairs  ;  the  skins  are  thoroughly  washed 
again,  and  at  last  are  ready  for  tanning." 

"  How  are  they  tanned  ?  " 

"  Why,  by  putting  them  into  paddle-wheels 
filled  with  the  tanning  solution  where  they  revolve 
as  many  as  seven  or  eight  hours.  This  solution 
is  then  changed  for  a  weaker  one,  and  they  revolve 
again  for  a  couple  of  hours  more.  Some  skins  are 
tanned  in  a  mixture  of  chemicals  which  we  buy 
all  prepared ;  we  call  those  chrome  tanned. 
Others  are  soaked  in  a  vegetable  tan  of  hemlock, 
oak,  chestnut,  palmetto  roots,  gambier,  or  que- 
bracho/' 

63 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Or  what  ?  " 

"  Quebracho ! "  Jackson  rolled  out  the  long 
word  with  a  gusto.  "  Quebracho  is  a  tree  some- 
thing like  the  lignum-vitsB  and  grows  in  South 
America.  The  hardened  gum  comes  in  barrels 
and  looks  like  rosin  ;  sometimes,  instead  of  being 
hard,  it  is  shipped  in  a  liquid  state  in  big  tank 
cars.  There  is  about  fifteen  per  cent,  of  tannin 
in  quebracho  and  at  the  tanneries  it  can  be  diluted, 
of  course,  to  any  strength  desired.  We  use  it  al- 
together here  instead  of  using  other  vegetable 
tans." 

"  But  it  says  in  my  geography  that  every  one 
uses  oak  or  hemlock  bark,"  objected  Peter,  sceptic- 
ally. 

"  Well,  the  Coddington  Company  doesn't. 
Bryant  says  we  tan  so  much  leather  here  that 
there  would  be  no  way  of  disposing  of  the  quan- 
tities of  bark  left  after  the  tannin  had  been  ex- 
tracted from  it.  Besides  bark  is  scarce  and 
expensive  ;  then,  too,  it  takes  a  car-load  of  bark 
to  get  even  a  decent  amount  of  tannin  and  the 

freighting  adds  to  the  cost.     Quebracho   can   be 

64 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

shipped  by  water  and  is  therefore  more  econom- 
ical, and  for  the  varieties  of  leather  we  tan  here 
it  answers  the  purpose  as  well.  It  is  lots  of  work 
to  get  the  tannin  out  of  oak  or  hemlock  bark. 
The  bark  has  to  be  ground  up  and  put  in  a  leach- 
ing-kettle  full  of  water;  after  it  has  boiled  the 
liquid  is  drained  off  and  the  tannin  extracted. 
Using  quebracho  is  a  much  simpler  method.  Of 
course  we  use  oak  and  hemlock  bark,  though,  in 
the  sole  leather  tanneries  over  at  Elmwood." 

Peter  regarded  Jackson  intently. 

"  How  did  you  come  to  know  so  much  about  all 
this  business?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  much/'  was  the  modest 
answer.  "I  just  wanted  to  learn  what  I  could 
while  I  had  the  chance.  You  can't  help  being 
curious  when  you  work  so  long  in  one  room. 
Bryant  saw  I  was  interested  and  he's  explained 
all  the  things  I  wanted  to  find  out." 

"  Then  maybe  you'll  pass  on  some  more  of  your 
information,"  laughed  Peter,  "  and  tell  me  why 
some  of  the  skins  are  tanned  in  quebracho  and 
some  in  chrome." 

65 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  As  I  told  you,"  repeated  Jackson  good- 
naturedly,  "  quebracho  is  a  vegetable  tan  and 
chrome  a  chemical  tan.  The  effect  of  each  of 
these  processes  on  the  skins  is  different;  so  the 
process  used  depends  on  what  sort  of  leather  is 
wanted.  At  many  tanneries  chrome  is  used  al- 
most entirely  for  tanning  calfskins  because  the 
process  is  so  much  quicker;  chrome  takes  but 
about  nine  hours  while  quebracho  tanning  takes 
two  weeks  or  thereabouts." 

"  I  see.     And  after  the  tanning  ?  " 

"  The  skins  are  inspected  while  wet  and  sorted 
for  stock ;  they  are  then  stamped  with  a  letter  or 
number  so  they  can  be  identified ;  they  are  fat- 
liquored,  and  are  dyed." 

"  What  is  fat-liquored  ?  " 

"  Fat-liquored  means  working  the  skins  about 
in  a  mixture  of  soap  and  oil  until  they  absorb 
these  softening  ingredients  and  become  pliable. 
All  leather,  whether  chrome  or  vegetable  tanned, 
has  to  go  through  this  process.  The  liquid  is  put 
into  paddle-wheels  just  as  the  tanning  mixture  is. 

The  dyeing   is   done   in   paddle-wheels   too,  and 

66 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

some  kinds  of  leather  have  in  addition  a  coat  of 
dye  rubbed  into  them  by  hand.  It  gives  them  a 
better  surface.'1 

"  What  is  your  work,  Jackson  ?  "  asked  Peter. 

"  Oh,  I've  done  about  everything  there  is  to  do 
in  a  beamhouse.  Just  now  I  am  inspecting  and 
sorting  the  skins  after  they  are  tanned." 

"  What  is  Mr.  Bryant  going  to  set  me  at  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  You  will  have  to  ask  him. 
But  no  matter  what  he  gives  you  to  do  you  must 
not  be  discouraged,  Strong.  You  were  lucky  to 
get  any  job  at  all  in  the  tannery.  They  have 
turned  away  lots  of  boys  your  age — they  do  it 
every  day." 

Peter  bit  his  lip  to  keep  from  smiling. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  consider  myself  lucky," 
replied  he. 

"  Well,  aren't  you  ?  To  be  young,  and  well,  and 
to  know  that  if  you  do  your  best  you  have  a  chance 
to  work  up  to  something  better?  I  think  it's 
great !  I  intend  to  work  up.  Some  day  I  may 
be  a  partner  in  Coddingtons' — who  knows  I  Then 
I'll  dress  my  mother  in  silk  every  day  in  the  week 

67          , 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

and  I'll  buy  an  automobile.     I'd  like  to  ride  in 
one  of  those  things  just  once.     Did  you  ever?  " 

"  Yes/'  admitted  Peter  cautiously. 

"Honest?    Wasn't  it  bully?    Where  did  you 

go?" 

But  Peter  was  spared  the  difficult  task  of  reply- 
ing. Instead,  Bryant  summoned  him,  and  he  was 
given  a  wheel-barrow  filled  with  wet  skins  which 
were  to  be  carried  from  the  soaking  vats  to  the 
lime  pits.  All  the  rest  of  the  morning  back  and 
forth  he  trudged  wheeling  load  after  load.  It  was 
stupid,  dirty  work,  and  he  was  glad  when  the 
noon  whistle  blew. 

"  Let's  eat  our  luncheon  together,  Strong,"  said 
Jackson,  "  that  is — unless  you  have  somebody  else 
you  want  to  lunch  with." 

Peter  assented  only  too  gladly.  It  was  far 
pleasanter  to  have  a  boy  his  own  age  to  speak 
to  than  to  eat  by  himself.  Besides  he  liked 
Jackson. 

But  even  in  the  fresh  breeze  that  swept  the  open 
field,  even  while  playing  ball,  even  at  home  after 

a  hot  bath  and  clean  clothing,  Peter  could  still 

68 


A  NEW  FRIEND 

scent  the  odor  of  the  beamhouse.  It  was  days  be- 
fore he  became  accustomed  to  it  and  could  feel, 
with  Nat  Jackson,  that  he  was  a  lucky  boy  to  have 
a  "job." 


69 


CHAPTER  IV 
PETEB'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

ETER  had  been  three  weeks  in  the 
beamhouse  and  had  in  that  time 
proved  himself  so  useful  that  his 
pay  had  been  raised  from  six  to  six 
dollars  and  a  half  a  week.  Very 
proud  he  was  of  his  financial  good  fortune.  With 
few  demands  in  the  way  of  clothing  he  was  now 
able  to  lay  aside  quite  a  little  sum  toward  the 
motorcycle  he  so  much  desired.  The  days  at  the 
tannery  passed  more  quickly.  Nat  Jackson  be- 
came his  chum  and  the  two  lads  were  almost 
inseparable ;  they  lunched  together,  played  on  the 
ball  team,  and  often  spent  their  Saturday  after- 
noons in  taking  long  walks  or  going  to  Nat's 

70 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

house.     Peter,  however,  took  great  good  care  that 
Nat  should  not  visit  him. 

The  omission  of  this  hospitality  was  not  entirely 
unnoticed  by  young  Jackson,  and  the  conclusion 
he  drew  was  that  Peter  lived  humbly — perhaps 
poorly — in  lodgings  to  which  he  did  not  consider 
it  suitable  to  invite  a  guest.  Nat  thought  this 
foolish  pride  on  Peter's  part  and  he  meant  to  tell 
him  so  some  time  when  they  became  better  ac- 
quainted. It  was  a  mistake,  argued  Nat,  to  be 
over-sensitive  about  one's  poverty.  If  Peter  was 
saving  his  money  surely  that  was  excuse  enough. 
He  had  a  right  to  live  as  he  pleased.  Further- 
more what  possible  difference  could  it  make  in 
their  friendship  ?  Nat  himself  lived  simply  but 
very  nicely  on  the  meager  salary  that  he  earned. 
He  and  his  mother  rented  two  tiny  bedrooms,  a 
sunny  little  living-room,  and  a  microscopic  kitchen 
in  a  part  of  the  town  which,  to  be  sure,  was  cheap 
and  ugly  ;  but  Mrs.  Jackson,  Peter  soon  found, 
was  one  of  the  rare  women  who  could  make  a 
home — a  real  home — almost  anywhere.  She  often 
laughingly  remarked  that  if  she  were  to  dwell  in 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

a  snow  hovel  at  the  North  Pole  she  believed  she 
should  cut  a  window  in  the  side  of  it  and  set  a  pot 
of  flowers  there,  and  Peter  could  well  imagine  her 
doing  it. 

She  was  a  short,  bright-eyed,  motherly  little 
person,  with  a  quick  appreciation  of  a  joke,  and  a 
wonderful  knack  at  cooking.  Incidentally  she 
had  a  quiet  voice  and  chose  soft  colors  in  preference 
to  crude  ones.  Peter  gathered  from  her  manner 
of  speech  and  from  the  delicate  modeling  of  her 
hands  that  at  some  time  in  her  life  she  had  oc- 
cupied a  very  different  position  from  the  one  she 
was  now  filling.  But  whatever  that  past  might 
have  been  he  gained  no  inkling  of  it  either  from 
her  or  from  her  son.  Bravely,  patiently,  happily, 
she  made  a  home  for  her  boy — such  a  home  that 
Peter  Coddington  visited  it  with  the  keenest  pleas- 
ure and  came  away  with  a  vague  wonder  what  it 
was  that  those  three  wee  rooms  possessed  which 
was  lacking  in  his  own  richly  furnished  mansion. 

Perhaps  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  encouragement 
of  Nat  and  his  mother  Peter  might  not  have  had 

the  grit  to  master  his  work  at  the  beamhouse.     A 

72 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

wholesome  spur  these  two  friends  were  to  his  flag- 
ging spirits.  There  was  some  subtle  quality  in 
Nat's  mother  that  made  a  fellow  want  to  do  his 
very  best — to  be  as  much  of  a  man  as  he  could. 
And  yet  she  said  little  to  urge  either  of  the  lads  to 
their  task.  It  was  just  that  she  was  so  proud  and 
so  pleased  when  they  did  win  any  good  fortune 
through  their  own  endeavors.  And  so  Peter  forged 
bravely  on,  prodded  by  an  unformulated  desire  to 
do  well  not  only  for  the  sake  of  his  own  parents, 
but  that  he  might  not  disappoint  the  faith  that 
Nat  and  Nat's  mother  had  in  him. 

Even  Mr.  Coddington  remarked  one  evening  at 
dinner  (and  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his  eye  when 
he  said  it)  that  he  was  highly  gratified  by  the  re- 
ports he  heard  of  "  young  Strong." 

But  as  the  summer  advanced  and  the  days  grew 
hotter  Mrs.  Coddington  watched  her  boy  with 
anxious  care  and  dropped  more  than  one  sugges- 
tion that  it  was  time  they  all  were  off  to  the  shore. 
None  of  her  suggestions  bore  fruit,  however,  and 
by  and  by  when  she  saw  that  Mr.  Coddington  had 
no  intention  of  leaving  Milburn  she  ceased  to  re- 

73 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

monstrate  further  and  Peter  settled  down  to  work 
and  to  keep  as  comfortable  as  he  could  during  the 
hot  weather.  What  a  haven  his  home,  with  its 
green  lawns  and  wide  verandas,  became,  after  those 
long,  breathless  hours  in  the  tannery  !  Never  be- 
fore had  he  half  appreciated  his  surroundings. 
Most  of  the  houses  where  the  men  at  the  factory 
lived  were  huddled  closely  in  that  dingy  part  of 
the  town  where  Nat  Jackson's  rooms  were,  and 
Peter  soon  discovered  that  after  supper  many  of 
the  workmen  and  their  families  came  and  sat  in 
the  ball  field  opposite  Factory  1  where  there  was 
more  air,  and  where  some  of  the  men  actually  slept 
when  the  nights  were  very  hot.  It  was  a  blessing 
— that  great  open  space !  Peter  wondered  what 
they  would  have  done  without  it. 

He  had  been  raising  the  query  mentally  one 
July  morning  on  his  way  to  work  after  a  close, 
restless  night  in  his  big  room  on  the  hill.  The 
day  was  a  sultry  one ;  no  air  stirred,  and  it  was 
with  a  sigh  that  Peter  entered  the  beamhouse. 
No  sooner  was  he  inside,  however,  than  he  at  once 
saw  that  something  was  wrong.  Knots  of  men 

74 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

were  speaking  together  in  undertones  and  seemed 
to  be  far  more  eager  to  talk  than  to  take  up  their 
daily  tasks.  Only  Bryant,  who  moved  from  one 
group  to  another,  urging,  coaxing,  commanding, 
succeeded  in  compelling  them  to  attend  to  what 
they  had  to  do. 

"  You  fellows  can  do  all  the  talking  you  want 
to  at  noon,"  he  said.  "  There  will  be  no  builders 
around  to-day,  I  guess." 

"  They'll  do  well  to  keep  away ! "  muttered  an 
angry  Swede,  threateningly. 

"  You  go  to  unhairing  skins,  Olsen,"  Bryant 
commanded,  putting  his  hand  firmly  but  kindly 
on  the  broad  shoulder  of  the  man.  "  You  can 
scold  your  wrath  all  out  this  noon.  Go  on." 

Sullenly  the  man  obeyed. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  Peter  managed  to  whis- 
per to  Nat  Jackson. 

"  The  men  are  furious ;  they  are  threatening  to 
strike,"  returned  Nat  in  an  undertone. 

"  To  strike  !  "  exclaimed  Peter.  His  thoughts 
flew  to  his  father.  "What  has  happened?"  he 
questioned  insistently. 

75 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Didn't  you  see  last  night's  paper  ?  Haven't 
you  heard?  Mr.  Coddington  is  going  to  put  up 
another  tannery.  He's  going  to  build  it  on  the 
ball  field!" 

"  On  the  ball  field  !     Our  field  !  " 

"  So  the  paper  says.  Of  course  the  land  is  his. 
But  it  does  seem  pretty  tough  !  " 

Peter  moved  on,  dazed. 

To  take  away  the  field — the  one  out-of-door  spot 
for  luncheon  and  exercise  !  To  deprive  hundreds 
of  stifled  creatures  of  fresh  air  and  sunlight !  It 
was  monstrous !  Why  hadn't  his  father  men- 
tioned the  plan?  Of  course  he  did  not  realize 
what  it  would  mean  to  the  men  or  he  never  would 
have  considered  it.  What  would  become  of  all 
those  tired  people  who  nightly  left  their  bare  little 
dwellings  and  sought  a  cool  evening  breeze  in  the 
field  ?  Peter  knew  Nat  and  his  mother  always  sat 
there  until  bedtime  and  many  of  the  other  work- 
men brought  their  wives  and  children.  Once  the 
boy  had  sat  there  himself.  It  was  an  orderly 
crowd  that  he  had  seen — children  tumbling  over 

each   other  on  the  grass;   women  seated  on  the 

76 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

benches  and  exchanging  a  bit  of  gossip ;  tired  men 
stretched  fall-length  on  the  turf  resting  in  the 
quiet  of  the  place. 

Why,  it  was  a  crime  to  take  the  field  away ! 

All  the  morning  while  he  worked  Peter's  mind 
seethed  with  arguments  against  the  building  of 
the  new  factory.  He  longed  to  see  his  father  and 
talk  it  out.  Surely  Mr.  Coddington  would  listen 
if  he  realized  the  conditions.  He  was  a  kind  man 
— not  an  inhuman  brute.  It  seemed  as  if  the  noon 
whistle  would  never  blow. 

With  Nat  Jackson  and  a  score  of  agitated  work- 
men Peter  went  out  into  the  shade  opposite. 
Luncheon  was  forgotten,  and  ball,  too.  Instead  a 
crowd  gathered  and  on  every  hand  there  were 
mutterings  and  angry  protests. 

"  Of  course  Coddington  can  take  the  land.  It's 
his.  There  is  no  law  to  prevent  him  from  doing 
anything  he  wants  to  with  it.  What  does  he  care 
for  us?"  remarked  an  old,  gray-haired  tanner. 

"  The  working  man  is  nothing  to  the  rich  man," 
grumbled  another.  "  All  the  millionaire  wants  is 
more  money.  Another  factory  means  just  that — 

77 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

more  money  I  It's  money,  money,  money — al- 
ways money  with  the  rich.  The  more  they  have 
the  more  they  want." 

Sick  at  heart,  Peter  listened. 

"  Why  don't  you  fellows  do  something  about 
it  ?  "  blustered  a  red-faced  Italian.  "  I'll  bet  you 
if  we  called  a  strike  it  would  bring  Coddington  to 
terms.  He'd  a  good  sight  rather  give  up  building 
that  factory  than  have  us  all  walk  out — 'specially 
now  when  there's  more  work  ahead  than  the  firm 
can  handle.  I've  been  in  five  strikes  in  other 
places  and  we  never  failed  yet  to  get  what  we 
started  for." 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  drive  a  man  like  Mr. 
Coddington  that  way  ?  "  It  was  Carmachel  who 
spoke.  "  You  can  walk  out,  all  of  you,  if  you 
choose.  It  would  make  no  difference  to  him.  If 
he  has  decided  it  is  best  to  put  up  that  tannery 
he'll  put  it  up.  A  strike  would  do  you  no  good 
and  as  a  result  your  families  would  be  without 
food  and  a  roof  over  their  heads  all  winter. 
You're  a  fine  man,  Ristori  I  Coddington  pays 
you  well.  You  take  his  money  and  are  glad  to 

78 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

get  a  job  from  him  ;  then  the  first  minute  anything 
does  not  go  to  suit  you  you  turn  against  him  and 
cry  :  Strike  !  You  don't  know  what  loyalty  means. 
Hasn't  Coddington  always  been  square  with  you  ? 
Hasn't  he  paid  you  good  wages  ?  Hasn't  he  added 
an  extra  bit  to  your  envelope  at  Christmas  ?  I'll 
not  strike ! " 

"  What  would  you  have  us  do  ?  "  was  Ristori's 
hot  retort.  "  Would  you  have  us  sit  by  like  dumb 
things  and  let  him  do  anything  to  us  he  pleases  ?  " 

"  Coddington  is  a  reasonable  man,"  Carmachel 
replied.  "  Why  don't  some  of  you  talk  decently 
with  him  about  all  this  ?  " 

"  Aye !  And  lose  our  jobs  for  our  pains !  " 
sneered  a  swarthy  Armenian. 

A  shout  went  up. 

"  A  strike  !     A  strike !  "  yelled  a  hundred  voices. 

"  Would  you  strike  and  see  your  families 
starve  ?  "  cried  Nat  Jackson.  "  I  have  a  mother  to 
support.  I  care  more  for  her  than  for  the  field 
and  everything  on  it.  I  shall  not  strike." 

"  You  white-livered  young  idiot !  "  roared  some 
one  in  the  crowd. 

79 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  I  tell  you,  men,"  went  on  Carmachel,  "  there  is 
nothing  to  be  gained  by  striking.  Get  together 
some  of  your  best  speakers  from  each  factory  and 
let  them  ask  an  interview  of  Mr.  Coddington — 
now — this  afternoon — before  anything  more  is 
done  about  the  new  factory." 

"  Hell  not  grant  it !  " 

"  Hasn't  he  always  been  fair  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes ! " 

"  Aye ! " 

"So  he  has!7' 

"  He  has  that ! " 

Grudgingly  the  workmen  admitted  it,  even  the 
most  rabid  of  them. 

Drawn  by  an  irresistible  impulse  Peter  elbowed 
his  way  into  the  midst  of  the  workmen. 

"  I  am  sure  Mr.  Coddington  will  listen  to  you," 
he  ejaculated  earnestly.  "  Choose  your  men  and 
let  them  go  to  him.  Give  him  a  chance  to  see 
your  side  of  it.  He  will  be  reasonable — I  know  he 
will." 

"  It's  the  Little  Giant,"  said  one  man  to  another. 

"  Put  it  to  vote,"  urged  Peter.     "  Come  !    How 

80 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

many  are  for  going  to  Mr.  Coddington?  You 
fellows  do  not  want  a  strike.  Think  what  it  would 
mean  ! " 

"  The  lad's  right.     Up  with  the  hands  1  " 

It  was  a  crisis. 

Peter  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 

A  few  hands  were  raised,  then  slowly  a  few 
more ;  more  came.  All  over  the  field  they  shot 
into  the  air. 

"  And  now  choose  your  representatives,"  called 
Peter  quickly,  dreading  lest  the  tide  of  sentiment 
should  turn. 

"  Carmachel !  He  doesn't  seem  to  fear  losing  his 
job,"  piped  a  voice.  "  Put  on  Carmachel  1 " 

"  And  Jackson ;  he  said  he  would  not  strike 
anyway,"  called  somebody  else. 

"  Bryant  is  a  good  fellow  I     Put  Bryant  on." 

"  Put  on  some  men  from  the  other  factories,  too," 
demanded  a  Pole  aggressively. 

A  committee  of  twelve  were  chosen. 

"Add  the  Little  Giant  as  the  thirteenth— just 
for  luck  I "  laughed  a  knee-staker. 

There  was  a  cry  of  approval. 

81 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  The  Little  Giant !  The  Little  Giant !  "  rose  in 
a  chorus. 

"  No  1  No,  indeed  !  I  couldn't!"  Peter  protested 
violently. 

"  Of  course  you  could ! "  contradicted  Car- 
machel.  "  Come,  come !  You  mustn't  be  so 
modest,  Strong.  You  are  with  us  for  keeping  the 
field,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  But  there  are  reasons  that  you  don't 
understand  why  I  couldn't " 

"  Pooh  !     What  reasons  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  you.  But  I  couldn't  possibly  go  to 
Mr.  Coddington  with  the  men — I  couldn't,  really, 
Carmachel,"  reiterated  Peter  miserably. 

"  Nonsense  I  The  only  question  is  this — is  your 
sympathy  with  us  or  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  is  I  "  There  was  no  doubting  the 
fervor  of  the  avowal. 

"  Then  that  settles  it.  Although  you  have  come 
here  but  recently,  Strong,  we  all  consider  you  a 
friend  and  count  you  as  one  of  ourselves.  You'll 
stand  by  the  bunch,  won't  you  ? "  Carmachel 

scrutinized  Peter  sharply. 

82 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

"  Yes,  I  will.  But  you  don't  understand  the 
circumstances  or  you  would  never  urge  me  to " 

Carmachel  interrupted  him. 

"  I  guess  I  understand  the  circumstances  better 
than  you  think,"  returned  he,  dryly.  "  Mr.  Cod- 
dington  got  you  your  place,  I've  heard.  Naturally 
you  feel  under  obligations  to  him  for  his  kindness. 
That's  all  very  well.  But  has  he  ever  been  near 
you  since  he  put  you  into  the  tannery  ?  No  I  He 
sits  in  his  office  and  opens  his  mail  and  you  are 
just  a  boy  in  the  works.  Isn't  that  so?  What's 
to  hinder  you  from  going  respectfully  to  him  with 
the  rest  of  us  and  calling  to  his  attention  some- 
thing which  seems  to  us  an  injustice?  You  said 
yourself  it  was  the  best  plan.  You  pleaded  with 
us  to  do  it." 

"  I  know." 

"  Then  why  won't  you  go  yourself?  You're  not 
a  coward,  Strong,  nor,  unless  I  greatly  mistake, 
are  you  the  sort  of  chap  who  would  point  out  to 
others  a  path  he  wouldn't  dare  follow  himself." 

"  I'll  go  I  "  cried  Peter  suddenly.  "  I'll  go,  but 
I  will  not  do  any  speaking." 

83 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Nobody  wants  you  to  speak/'  growled  an 
Italian  who  had  been  standing  near  and  who 
had  overheard  the  conversation.  "  Bryant,  Car- 
machel,  and  the  older  men  will  do  the  speaking. 
It's  their  place." 

So  it  was  agreed. 

Events  shaped  themselves  rapidly.  Within  an 
hour  Mr.  Coddington,  seated  in  his  perfectly 
appointed  office,  received  word  that  a  deputation 
of  his  men  respectfully  requested  an  interview 
with  him  that  afternoon. 

He  was  thunderstruck. 

What  did  the  demand  foreshadow?  Was  a 
strike  brewing  ?  The  men  had  appeared  perfectly 
satisfied  with  the  working  conditions  at  the 
tanneries.  Wages  were  fairly  high  and  the  factories 
conformed  to  every  requirement  of  the  Health  and 

Labor  Laws. 

• 

He  touched  a  bell. 

"  Ask  Tyler  to  step  here,"  said  he,  frowning. 

Mr.  Tyler  entered  hastily. 

"  What's  all  this,  Tyler  ?  "  demanded  his  chief. 

"  I  hear  the  men  want  to  see  me." 

84 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it,  sir.  They've  kept 
their  own  council.  If  they  have  a  grievance  they 
have  not  told  me." 

"  No  labor  agitators  have  been  in  town  re- 
cently ?  " 

"  Not  to  my  knowledge,  Mr.  Coddington." 

"  That  will  do." 

Tyler  went  out. 

Again  Mr.  Coddington  rang. 

"  I  will  see  the  men  at  three  o'clock,"  he  said  to 
a  messenger. 

Left  alone  the  president  paced  the  floor.  Busi- 
ness was  good.  The  books  showed  a  quantity  of 
unfilled  orders.  It  would  be  an  awkward  time  for 
a  strike. 

"  Undoubtedly  I  could  get  strike-breakers  from 
Chicago,"  he  murmured  aloud,  "  but  it  would  take 
time.  Besides,  I  do  not  want  my  men  to  walk 
out.  Think  of  the  years  many  of  them  have 
worked  here !  The  town  will  be  full  of  idle 
persons  and  suffering  families.  I  have  never  had 
a  strike  in  all  the  history  of  my  business.  I've 

always  tried  to  do  what  was  fair  toward  those  who 

85 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

were  in  my  employ.  That  is  what  cuts — to  be 
square  with  your  men  and  then  have  them  meet 
you  with  ingratitude.  Why,  I  would  have  staked 
my  oath  that  they  would  have  stood  by  me.  I'm 
disappointed — disappointed  I  " 

With  such  unpleasant  reflections  as  companions 
three  o'clock  came  none  too  speedily  for  Mr.  Cod- 
dington.  The  men  were  ushered  promptly  into 
the  office  and  the  door  closed.  Then  an  awkward 
silence  ensued.  Nobody  knew  exactly  whose  place 
it  was  to  speak  first. 

But  if  the  tanners  had  expected  the  president  of 
the  company  to  break  the  ice  and  open  the  inter- 
view they  had  missed  their  calculations,  for  he  did 
no  such  thing.  He  met  their  gaze  firmly,  courte- 
ously, but  silently. 

Peter,  who  stood  at  the  back  of  the  room  be- 
hind the  older  workmen,  saw  in  his  father's  face 
an  unaccustomed  sternness  and  felt  instinctively 
that  their  mission  was  destined  to  failure. 

It  was  Bryant  who  at  last  summoned  courage  to 
begin  the  conference. 

"  Mr.   Coddington,"   he    said,    "  we   men   have 

86 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

come  to  you  because  we  wish  to  hear  the  truth 
concerning  a  rumor  that  has  reached  us.  We 
come  respectfully.  You  are  our  chief — the  one 
who,  in  the  past,  has  always  been  fair  and  square 
with  us.  It  is  because  of  your  justice  that  we 
address  you  now.  Is  it  true  that  you  propose  to 
take  the  vacant  field  opposite  Factory  1  for  the 
site  of  a  new  building  ?  " 

As  Mr.  Coddington  drew  a  sigh  of  relief  he  in- 
clined his  head. 

"You  have  been  correctly  informed,"  he  as- 
sented. "We  need  more  room.  The  land  is 
lying  idle  with  a  tax  to  be  paid  yearly  upon  it. 
It  seems  to  me  an  economic  plan  to  utilize  the 
space  for  a  new  factory  in  which  the  patent 
leather  department  may  be  housed." 

"  Did  you  realize,  in  deciding,  that  the  field 
you  intend  to  take  is  the  recreation  ground  of  the 
men  in  your  mills  ?  "  asked  Bryant. 

"  I  know  that  some  of  the  men  play  ball  there," 
replied  Mr.  Coddington,  smiling. 

"  And  yet  you  have  decided  to  take  it  in  spite 
of  that  fact  ?  " 

87 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

The  president  stiffened. 

"  The  land/'  said  he,  "  is  mine,  and  the  taxes  I 
annually  pay  on  it  render  it  rather  a  costly  spot 
for  a  ball  field.  For  years  the  lot  has  been  nothing 
but  an  expense  to  me.  If  the  case  were  yours  and 
you  could  derive  an  income  from  property  where 
previously  all  had  been  outgo  wouldn't  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  But  do  you  need  that  income,  Mr.  Codding- 
ton  ?  "  cut  in  one  of  the  men.  "  Isn't  the  Cod- 
dington  Company  rich?  Must  rich  men  go  on 
getting  more  and  more,  and  never  think  of  those 
who  coin  their  money  for  them?  " 

It  was  an  unwise  speech,  and  its  effect  was 
electrical. 

"  I  will  try  and  believe  that  you  men  came  here 
with  the  intention  of  being  courteous,"  observed 
Mr.  Coddington  with  frigid  politeness.  "  My 
affairs,  however,  are  mine  and  not  yours.  I  must 
deal  with  them  in  the  way  that  I  consider  wisest. 
You  hardly  realize,  I  think,  that  you  are  over- 
stepping the  bounds  of  propriety  when  you  at- 
tempt to  dictate  to  me  what  I  shall  do  with  my 

land,  or  how  I  shall  manage  my  tanneries." 

88 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

The  sternness  of  the  answer  blocked  any  possible 
reply. 

Amid  the  silence  of  the  room  one  could  almost 
hear  the  heart-beats  of  the  waiting  throng. 

Then  some  one  in  the  crowd  made  his  way  to 
the  front  of  the  room  and  faced  the  president. 

It  was  Peter  Strong. 

As  Mr.  Coddington's  gaze  fell  on  his  son  he 
started. 

The  boy  stood  erect  and  looked  his  father 
squarely  in  the  eye. 

"May  I  speak,  sir?" 

Mr.  Coddington  bowed. 

Peter  began  gently,  respectfully,  and  his  words 
were  without  defiance. 

"  I  hardly  think  you  know  what  the  field  you 
are  going  to  take  from  the  men — from  us  all — 
means,  sir.  Not  only  do  we  play  ball  and  go  there 
to  eat  our  luncheon  but  each  noon  time  we  have  a 
chance  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air  and  go  back 
to  work  better  in  consequence.  The  field,  more- 
over, is  the  only  open  lot  in  that  part  of  the  town. 

At  night  hundreds  of  men  who  have  worked  hard 

89 


MAY   I  SPEAK,    SIB?" 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

all  day  congregate  there  to  get  sight  of  the  green 
grass  and  enjoy  a  little  interval  of  quiet.  They 
bring  their  families  from  the  huddled  districts 
where  there  is  neither  sky,  tree,  nor  breathing 
space.  Suppose  you  lived  as  they  do?  Suppose 
when  you  went  home  at  night  it  was  to  a  tene- 
ment in  a  crowded  part  of  the  city  ?  You  return 
to  a  big  house  on  the  top  of  a  hill  where  the  trees 
catch  every  breeze  that  passes ;  where  there  are 
shrubs,  gardens,  flowers.  Who  needs  this  space 
more — you  or  your  employees  ?  " 

When  he  began  to  speak,  Peter  had  had  no 
clear  idea  of  what  he  should  say  ;  but  as  he  went 
on  words  came  to  him.  Was  not  he  himself  one 
of  these  working  men  who  knew  what  the  heat, 
the  odor,  the  noise  of  the  tanneries  meant?  As 
he  went  on  his  voice  vibrated  with  earnestness. 
There  was  no  doubting  his  sincerity.  It  was  in 
truth  Peter  Strong  and  not  Peter  Coddington  who 
made  the  appeal. 

As  Mr.  Coddington  listened  without  comment 
to  the  speech  his  wordlessness  was  an  enigma  to 
the  men.  It  seemed  as  if  it  was  a  silence  of  sup- 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

pressed  anger  and  in  consternation  Carmachel 
plucked  Peter's  sleeve. 

"  Say  no  more,  lad,"  he  whispered.  "  You've 
gone  too  far.  You  forget  that  it  is  the  president 
himself  you're  talking  to.  You  shouldn't  have 
said  what  you  did,  even  though  it's  true." 

But  Peter  scarcely  heard. 

He  was  watching  his  father — watching  his  face 
for  the  gleam  that  did  not  come. 

"  I  will  consider  what  you  have  said,  Strong," 
replied  Mr.  Coddington  after  a  pause.  "I  will 
acknowledge  that  I  was  ignorant  of  the  fact  that 
the  spot  meant  anything  to  the  people  of  the 
community.  If  the  conditions  are  as  you  say 
we  may  be  able  to  find  a  solution  for  the 
problem.  May  we  consider  this  interview  at 
an  end?" 

Although  the  remark  was  in  the  form  of  a  ques- 
tion the  committee  felt  itself  dismissed  and  un- 
comfortably the  men  filed  into  the  corridor. 

"  We've  gained  nothing ! "  was  Bryant's  first 
word  when  they  found  themselves  alone. 

"  We've    only    succeeded     in    antagonizing    Mr. 

92 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

Coddington  and  solidified  his  intention  of  tak- 
ing the  field.  We  might  have  got  somewhere 
if  Strong  had  not  put  his  foot  in  it.  What  pos- 
sessed you  to  pitch  into  the  president  like  that, 
young  fellow  ?  " 

"  What  made  you  speak  at  all  ?  "  put  in  Car- 
machel.  "  Don't  you  know  your  place  better 
than  to  think  a  rich  man  like  Mr.  Coddington 
is  going  to  stand  for  having  a  kid  like  you  lay 
down  the  law  to  him  ?  How  ever  did  you  dare  ? 
Your  job  is  gone — that's  certain.  I'm  sorry,  too, 
for  we  all  like  you  here  at  the  works.'1 

"Oh,  Peter!  Peter!  Why  did  you  say  it?" 
wailed  Nat  Jackson.  "  I  know  you  had  the  best 
of  intentions,  but  don't  you  see  that  you've  upset 
the  whole  thing?" 

There  was  something  very  like  a  sob  in  Nat's  tone. 

Poor  Peter  !  From  every  hand  came  reproaches. 
If  only  he  had  not  spoken  !  His  impulse,  good  at 
heart,  had  been  one  of  mistaken  zeal.  It  was  not 
that  he  himself  had  lost  his  cause — he  had  lost  it 
for  hundreds  of  men  in  whom  he  had  become  in- 
terested, and  whom  he  had  struggled  to  serve. 

93 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Very  wretched  the  boy  was  for  the  remainder 
of  the  day ;  when  night  came  he  dreaded  to  go 
home.  What  would  his  father  say  to  him  ? 

Peter  might  have  saved  himself  this  worry,  for 
when  he  entered  the  dining-room  and  sat  down 
to  dinner  he  found  the  good-humor  of  his  father 
quite  undisturbed  and  no  allusion  was  made  to 
the  day's  occurrence.  Surely  this  was  carrying  out 
to  the  letter  the  agreement  they  had  made.  Peter 
Coddington  was  his  son  and  he  treated  him  as 
such  ;  but  to  Peter  Strong,  the  boy  of  the  tannery, 
he  had  nothing  to  say.  Miserably  Peter  waited 
for  the  opportunity  to  offer  explanation  or  apology. 
It  did  not  come  and  all  chance  for  securing  it  van- 
ished when,  directly  after  the  coffee  was  served, 
Mr.  Coddington  rose,  announced  that  he  had  an 
engagement,  and  was  whirled  off  in  the  motor- 
car. He  did  not  return  until  long  after  his  son 
was  asleep. 

Had  Peter  known  what  this  mysterious  engage- 
ment was  his  slumbers  would  have  been  happier, 
for  the  president  of  the  company  had  gone  on  no 
idle  errand.  Screened  from  view  in  the  far  corner 

94 


PETER'S  MAIDEN  SPEECH 

of  the  big  touring-car  he  had  ridden  past  the  tan- 
neries and  with  his  own  eyes  had  seen  the  benches 
in  the  ball  field  thronged  with  sweltering  human- 
ity. Twice,  three  times  he  passed.  He  saw  the 
boys  at  their  games ;  the  tired  mothers  resting 
in  the  twilight ;  the  babies  that  toddled  at  their 
feet ;  and  the  men — his  men — lying  full-length  on 
the  grass  drinking  in  the  cool  air.  This  was  what 
he  had  come  out  to  see. 

The  result  of  it  was  that  the  next  morning,  in 
the  doorway  of  every  factory  of  the  Coddington 
Company,  the  following  notice  was  posted : 

After  careful  investigation  Mr.  Coddington  has 
decided  that  it  is  for  the  interest  of  his  men  that  the 
plan  to  erect  a  building  on  the  ball  field  be  aban- 
doned. Instead  the  land  will  be  laid  out  as  a  recre- 
ation ground  to  be  known  as  Strong  Park,  and  to 
be  reserved  for  the  Coddington  employees,  their 
families,  and  their  friends.  Negotiations  have  been 
opened  for  a  site  on  Central  Street,  where  the  new 
patent  leather  factory  will  shortly  be  erected. 

Signed :  H.  M.  CODDINGTON,  President. 

What  an  ovation  the  men  gave  Peter  that  day  ! 

95 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

And  how  grateful  Peter  was  to  his  father !  So 
grateful  that  before  going  to  bed  he  felt  compelled 
to  break  their  compact  of  silence  and  exclaim  : 

"  Father,  it's  splendid  of  you  to  keep  the  field  for 
the  men  1  I  can't  thank  you  half  enough,  sir. 
But  you  ought  not  to  name  it  after  me." 

"  I'm  not  naming  it  after  you,"  was  his  father's 
laconic  reply.  "  I'm  naming  it  after  Peter  Strong." 


96 


CHAPTER  V 
A  CATASTEOPHE 

N  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time 
Strong  Park  began  to  be  a  reality 
Men  commenced  grading  its  un- 
even turf;  laying  out  walks  and 
flower-beds ;  erecting  benches  and 
a  band  stand,  and  setting  out  trees  and  shrubs. 
An  ample  area  at  one  end  of  the  grounds  was 
reserved  for  a  ball  field ;  and  adjoining  it 
parallel  bars,  traveling  rings,  and  the  apparatus 
necessary  to  an  out-of-door  gymnasium  was  put  in 
place. 

All  these  arrangements  Peter  witnessed  with  de- 
light. He  longed  to  tell  his  father  so,  but  un- 
fortunately was  granted  no  opportunity.  Once, 

97 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

and  once  only,  did  Mr.  Coddington  refer  to  the 
project  and  that  was  to  inquire  whimsically  of 
Peter  if  his  friend  Strong  was  satisfied  with  the 
preparations,  and  whether  he  had  any  suggestions 
to  make.  Young  Strong  had  no  suggestions,  Peter 
declared.  He  thought  tlie  park  perfect.  And  in- 
deed it  was !  Neither  thought  nor  money  had 
been  spared  to  make  it  so. 

Peter  was  very  proud  of  his  father  those  days 
when,  on  every  hand,  he  heard  the  men  extolling 
the  president's  generosity.  More  than  once  the 
great  secret  of  his  relation  to  the  Coddingtons 
trembled  on  his  lips  and  almost  slipped  from  him, 
but  he  succeeded  in  holding  it  resolutely  in  check. 
Despite  his  intimacy  with  Nat  and  his  frequent 
visits  to  the  Jackson  home  not  a  hint  of  his  real 
identity  escaped  him.  His  assumed  r61e  was  made 
easier,  perhaps,  by  the  fact  that  he  had  entered  so 
heartily  into  it.  He  was  really  living  the  career 
of  Peter  Strong,  and  the  Peter  Coddington  who 
had  idled  away  so  many  months  in  purposeless, 
irresponsible  dallying  was  rapidly  becoming  but  a 

hazy  memory.    There  was  no  denying  that  Peter 

98 


A  CATASTROPHE 

Strong's  life  was  the  far   more  interesting  one — 
every  day  it  became  more  absorbing. 

"  You  see  we're  really  doing  something  !  "  ex- 
claimed Peter  enthusiastically  to  Nat  Jackson  one 
Saturday  afternoon  when  they  were  taking  one  of 
their  long  tramps  together.  "  Washing  and  cart- 
ing skins  isn't  much  in  itself,  and  it  would  not  be 
any  fun  at  all  if  it  wasn't  part  of  the  chain.  But 
when  you  think  how  necessary  a  step  in  the 
process  it  is,  and  consider  that  there  could  be  no 
leather  unless  somebody  did  just  what  I  am  doing, 
it  seems  well  worth  while.  I  never  did  anything 
before  that  was  actually  necessary.  It  is  rather 
good  sport." 

And,  in  truth,  Peter  was  doing  something. 
Had  he  doubted  it  the  ever  increasing  fund  toward 
his  motorcycle  would  have  been  a  tangible  proof. 
Already  it  was  quite  a  little  nest-egg  and  the  boy, 
who  had  never  before  earned  a  penny,  felt  justi- 
fiably proud  of  the  crisp  bills  that  he  was  able  to 
tuck  at  intervals  into  the  bank.  Once  more,  as  a 
recognition  of  his  faithful  work,  his  pay  had  been 
raised — this  time  to  seven  dollars. 

99 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

It  was  toward  the  middle  of  August  that  Mr. 
Tyler,  the  superintendent,  who  evidently  was  keep- 
ing closer  watch  of  Peter's  progress  than  he  had 
suspected,  notified  him  that  on  the  fifteenth  he 
was  to  leave  the  beamhouse  and  report  in  the  fin- 
ishing department.  Peter  was  not  only  astonished 
but  a  good  deal  distressed.  He  had  worked  not  a 
whit  harder  or  more  faithfully  than  had  Nat  Jack- 
son, and  deserved  the  promotion  no  more — in  fact 
not  as  much  as  his  chum.  It  seemed  grossly  un- 
fair. Peter  turned  the  matter  over  and  over  in 
his  mind.  He  would  have  rejoiced  in  the  good 
fortune  had  he  considered  it  came  to  him  justly  ; 
but  to  take  what  belonged  to  somebody  else— that 
robbed  it  of  all  its  charm.  He  thought  and 
thought  what  he  should  do  and  at  last  he  gained 
courage  to  go  to  Mr.  Tyler  with  his  dilemma.  An 
appeal  for  his  friend  could  do  no  harm  and  it 
might  do  good. 

When  he  had  made  his  errand  known  the  super- 
intendent tilted  back  in  his  chair  and  regarded 
him  in  silence. 

"  Jackson    is    far    better    informed    as  to   the 

100 


A  CATASTROPHE 

processes  than  I  am,  Mr.  Tyler,"  Peter  pleaded. 
"  Besides,  he  has  a  mother  to  support  and  needs  to 
get  on.  If  there  is  only  one  vacancy  in  the  finish- 
ing department  can't  you  give  him  the  chance  ? 
He  has  been  a  year  in  the  beamhouse  already,  and 
if  there  is  a  promotion  it  belongs  by  right  to  him." 

Mr.  Tyler  fingered  his  watch-chain.  He  h'ad 
never  had  precisely  this  experience  before — to  try 
to  push  a  man  and  have  him  beg  that  you  give  his 
good  luck  to  somebody  else.  Surely  this  Peter 
Strong  was  an  extraordinary  person  !  Mr.  Tyler 
could  now  understand  how  even  the  president  of 
the  company,  under  the  spell  of  his  simple  elo- 
quence, had  not  only  surrendered  a  valuable  build- 
ing lot  for  a  park  but  had  actually  named  it  after 
the  youthful  enthusiast.  The  superintendent 
couldn't  but  admire  the  lad's  earnestness.  At  the 
same  time,  however,  he  did  not  at  all  fancy  having 
his  plans  questioned  or  interfered  with ;  therefore 
when  he  spoke  it  was  to  dash  Peter's  demands  to 
earth  with  a  rebuff. 

"  Most  men  would  hail  with  gratitude  an  open- 
ing that  took  them  out  of  the  beamhouse,  Strong," 

101 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

replied  he  stiffly.  "  It  is  generous  of  you,  no 
doubt,  to  make  this  plea  for  your  friend,  but  you 
see  you  are  the  person  recommended  for  the  pro- 
motion. In  this  world  we  must  take  our  chances 
as  they  come.  Unfortunately  the  opportunities  of 
life  are  not  transferable,  my  boy.  I  will,  however, 
bear  Jackson  in  mind  and  see  if  anything  can  be 
done  for  him.  Good-morning." 

The  nod  of  Mr.  Tyler's  head  was  final. 

Peter  turned  away,  heart-sick  at  his  failure.  He 
had  done  all  he  could  unless,  indeed,  he  broke  his 
bond  and  appealed  to  his  father,  and  any  such 
breach  of  their  contract  he  considered  out  of  the 
question.  Yet  how  he  dreaded  to  tell  the  Jacksons 
of  his  success.  Nat  would  be  so  hurt !  Still,  they 
must,  of  course,  know  it  in  time  and  how  much 
better  to  hear  the  news  from  Peter  himself  than  in 
cowardly  fashion  to  leave  the  spread  of  the  tid- 
ings to  rumor.  Accordingly  he  told  his  tale  as 
bravely  as  he  could. 

"  It  isn't  as  if  I  deserved  it  one  bit  more  than 
you,  Nat,"  he  concluded.  "  It  has  just  happened 

to  come  to  me — I've  no  idea  why." 

102 


A  CATASTROPHE 

"  Of  course  you  deserve  it,  Peter,"  cried  Nat. 
"  Haven't  you  worked  like  a  tiger  in  the  beam- 
house  ever  since  you  came  here  ?  You  know  you 
have.  Everybody  says  so.  There  isn't  a  man  in  the 
works  but  likes  you  and  will  be  glad  at  your  good 
luck — I  most  of  all.  Some  day  I'll  be  making  a 
start  up  the  ladder  myself ;  wait  and  see  if  I  don't !  " 

Although  he  spoke  with  a  generous  heartiness 
and  made  every  attempt  to  conceal  his  chagrin, 
Peter  knew  that  in  reality  Nat  honestly  felt  that  he 
had  failed  to  receive  the  prize  that  he  had  rightfully 
won.  Had  not  the  friendship  of  the  boys  been  of 
tough  fibre  it  would  have  been  shattered  then  and 
there.  As  it  was  their  affection  for  each  other 
bridged  the  chasm  and  it  would  have  been  hard  to 
tell  which  of  them  suffered  the  more — the  lad  who 
through  no  fault  of  his  own  had  taken  the  award 
that  belonged  to  his  chum,  or  the  lad  who  had 
won  the  prize  only  to  see  it  handed  to  some  one 
else.  Peter,  who  was  the  victim  of  success,  seemed 
of  the  two  the  more  overwhelmed  with  regrets  and 
therefore  it  was  Nat  who,  despite  his  bitter  disap- 
pointment, turned  comforter. 

103 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  You  mustn't  be  so  cut  up  over  it,  Peter,  old 
boy  !  Of  course  I  know  you  didn't  have  anything 
to  do  with  it.  The  men  in  a  factory  are  like  so 
many  checkers — they  are  moved  about  just  any 
way  that  those  higher  up  choose  to  play  the  game. 
It  is  all  right  and  I  want  you  to  know  I  think  so. 
Don't  start  in  at  your  new  job  feeling  that  I'm 
sorry  you  have  it.  I'm  glad  ;  really  I  am,  Peter  !  " 

"  It's  mighty  decent  of  you,  Nat.  I  wish  I  had 
the  chance  to  show  you  how  much  I  appreciate  it.'* 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  show  me ;  I  just  want  you 
to  believe  that  I  mean  what  I  say.  And  you 
mustn't  mind  our  working  in  different  departments. 
We'll  be  together  at  noon  time  just  the  same.  It 
won't  make  any  difference." 

But  still  Peter  was  not  happy.  Day  after  day 
he  waited  hopefully  to  see  if  Mr.  Tyler  would 
make  good  his  promise  and  do  something  for  young 
Jackson  ;  but  nothing  came  of  it,  and  no  course  re- 
mained but  to  accept  unwillingly  the  promotion 
and  set  his  foot  on  this  upward  rung  of  the  ladder. 

The  finishing  department  occupied  several  floors 

of  the  building  devoted  to  calfskins,  and  the  first 

104 


A  CATASTROPHE 

task  given  Peter  was  to  help  stretch  and  tack  the 
skins  which  were  still  wet  from  dyeing  on  boards, 
after  which  they  were  dried  by  steam  in  a  large, 
hot  room.  In  some  factories,  he  learned,  the  skins 
were  put  in  great  rooms  with  open  shutters  on  all 
sides,  where  they  dried  in  the  air.  But  the  Cod- 
dington  Company,  he  was  told,  preferred  drying 
by  steam.  Peter  was  very  slow  at  tacking  the  wet 
skins  on  the  boards.  The  speed  with  which  the 
boys  worked  who  had  been  long  at  the  job  as- 
tounded him.  With  lightning  swiftness  they  took 
up  the  big,  flat-headed  tacks,  placed,  and  struck 
them.  One  could  scarcely  follow  the  motions  of 
their  hands.  Fortunately  for  Peter  he  was  re- 
leased from  this  work  after  a  few  days  and  set  to 
helping  the  men  who  measured  the  finished  skins 
in  an  automatic  measuring  machine  ;  this  machine 
recorded  the  dimensions  of  the  skins  on  a  dial 
and  was  a  wonderfully  intricate  contrivance.  Try 
as  he  would  Peter  was  unable  to  fathom  how  it 
could  so  quickly  and  exactly  compute  a  problem 
that  it  would  have  taken  him  a  long  time  to  solve. 

Incidentally  he  learned  many  other  things   of 

105 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

the  workmen.  Some  of  the  very  stiff  calfskins, 
he  discovered,  were  "  dusted  "  or  laid  in  bins  of 
damp  sawdust  and  softened  before  they  were  taken 
to  the  finishers.  There  were  a  multitude  of  proc- 
esses, he  found,  for  converting  the  leather  into  the 
special  kinds  desired.  What  a  numberless  variety 
of  finishes  there  was !  There  was  willow  calf — a 
fine,  soft,  chrome-tanned  leather  which,  the  fore- 
man told  him,  was  put  into  the  best  quality  of 
men's  and  women's  shoes ;  box  calf — a  high  grade, 
storm-proof  leather,  chrome  tanned  and  dull  fin- 
ished ;  chrome  calf — finished  in  tan  color,  and 
with  a  fine,  smooth  grain ;  boarded  calf — tanned 
either  in  chrome  or  quebracho  ;  wax  calf — finished 
by  polishing  the  flesh  side  until  it  took  a  hard, 
waxy  surface ;  mat  calf  that  was  dull  in  finish ; 
storm  calf,  oiled  for  winter  wear ;  and  French  calf, 
which,  like  wax  calf,  was  finished  on  the  flesh 
side. 

"  How  in  the  world  could  any  one  think  of  so 
many  different  things  to  do  to  the  skin  of  a  calf  ?  " 
ejaculated  Peter. 

His    head   fairly  ached   with   the   information 

106 


A  CATASTROPHE 

poured  into  it  by  the  zealous  foreman  who,  by  the 
way,  was  an  Englishman  named  Stuart. 

"  In  time  you'll  sort  out  all  I  have  told  you," 
Stuart  answered  encouragingly,  observing  Peter's 
despair.  "  It  is  simple  enough  when  you  once  un- 
derstand the  different  finishing  processes.  First 
the  leather  is  rolled  by  machinery  until  it  is  plia- 
ble enough  for  the  finishers  to  work  on.  Then  it 
goes  through  a  '  putting  out '  process  ;  by  that  I 
mean  that  it  is  laid  out  on  benches  where  it  is 
stretched  and  flattened  by  being  smoothed  with  a 
piece  of  hard  rubber ;  next  the  edges  are  trimmed 
off  and  the  odd  bits  sold ;  some  of  these  go  to 
hardware  dealers  who  use  them  for  washers  or  for 
the  thousand  and  one  purposes  that  leather  is 
needed  for  in  making  tools." 

"  More  economy  !  "  put  in  Peter. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  you  have  learned  already  that  we 
do  not  waste  much  here,"  grinned  Stuart. 

Peter  nodded. 

"  Afterward,"  Stuart  continued,  "  follow  the 
many  methods  for  getting  certain  varieties  of  finish 

on  the  leather.     Here,  for  instance,  you  will  see 

107 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

men  graining  tan  stock  by  working  it  by  hand  into 
tiny  wrinkles  ;  they  use  heavy  pieces  of  cork  with 
which  they  knead  the  material  until  the  leather  is 
checked  in  minute  squares.  It  looks  like  an  easy 
thing  to  do,  but  it  isn't.  It  requires  skilled  work- 
men in  order  to  get  satisfactory  results.  Over 
here,"  and  he  beckoned  to  Peter,  "  men  are  mak- 
ing '  boarded  calf  by  beating  and  pounding  it  as 
you  see,  that  they  may  get  fine,  soft  stock.  Here 
still  others  are  glassing  the  leather  and  giving  it  a 
smooth  surface  by  rubbing  it  with  a  heavy  piece  of 
glass." 

"  And  what  are  those  fellows  over  by  the  wall 
doing  ?  "  inquired  Peter,  pointing  to  a  group  of 
workmen  who,  with  right  leg  naked,  were  standing 
in  a  row  and  rapidly  drawing  tan  leather  first  over 
a  wooden  upright  set  in  the  floor,  and  then  over 
their  knee. 

"  Those,"  Stuart  answered,  "  are  knee-stakers. 
Strangely  enough  no  machine  has  yet  been  in- 
vented which  will  give  to  certain  kinds  of  leather 
the  elasticity  and  softness  which  can  be  put  into  it 

by  a  man's  stretching  it  over  his  bare  knee.     It  is  a 

1 08 


A  CATASTROPHE 

curious  way  to  earn  one's  living,  isn't  it  ?  See  how 
quickly  they  work  and  how  strong  they  are.  Just 
look  how  the  muscles  of  their  legs  stand  out !  " 

"  I  should  say  so,"  Peter  answered.  "  Why,  it 
almost  seems  as  if  they  must  have  been  track 
sprinters  all  their  lives.  They  must  be  well  paid." 

"  What  they  earn  depends  on  how  fast  they 
work,"  Stuart  said.  "  All  this  finishing  is  piece 
work.  The  more  a  man  can  do  in  an  hour  the 
higher  he  is  paid.  Almost  all  these  fellows  are 
skilled  workmen  who  have  been  at  just  this  task 
for  a  long  time.  They  do  it  rapidly  and  well,  and 
receive  good  wages." 

Stuart  walked  on  and  Peter  followed. 

"  Here  is  a  machine  that  makes  gun-metal  fin- 
ished leather  for  the  uppers  of  black  shoes  ;  the 
leather  is,  as  you  see,  put  through  a  series  of  rollers 
where  it  is  blacked,  oiled,  and  ironed,  and  comes 
out  with  that  dull  surface." 

"  Are  all  these  different  kinds  of  leather  really 
made  from  calfskins  ?  "  asked  Peter  at  last. 

"  Practically  so — yes,"  replied  Stuart.     "  Upper 

or  dressed  leather  is  made  from  large  calfskins  or 

109 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

else  from  kips.  Kips,  you  know,  are  the  skins  of 
under-sized  cows,  oxen,  horses,  buffalo,  walrus,  and 
other  such  animals.  These  are  tanned  and  sorted 
out  in  the  beamhouse  when  wet.  The  thick  ones 
are  usually  split  thin  by  machinery  and  the  two 
parts  are  finished  separately.  The  part  of  the 
leather  where  the  hair  grew  is  the  more  valuable 
and  is  called  the  grain  ;  the  other  part  which  was 
next  to  the  animal  is  called  the  split.  Remember 
those  two  terms — the  grain  and  the  split." 

"  I'll  try  my  best,"  said  Peter  with  a  doubtful 
shake  of  his  head.  "I  am  dreadfully  afraid, 
though,  that  I  shall  forget  some  of  the  things 
you  have  told  me  to-day." 

"  I  don't  expect  you  to  remember  all  I've  told 
you,  Strong,"  laughed  Stuart,  good-naturedly. 
"Why,  you  would  not  be  a  human,  breathing 
boy  if  you  did.  It  has  taken  me  a  long  time  to 
learn  the  facts  that  I  have  been  telling  you.  But 
do  remember  about  the  grain  and  the  split ;  and 
while  you  are  remembering  that,  try  also  to  re- 
member that  a  rough  split  is  the  cheapest  leather 

made.     Some  heavy  hides  are  split  two,  four,  and 

no 


A  CATASTROPHE 

even  six  times  and  are  then  sold.  You  can  see  this 
$ort  of  leather  up-stairs  in  the  shipping-room  of 
the  other  factory,  and  if  I  were  you  I  would  take 
the  trouble  to  go  up  there  some  time  and  look  at 
it.  You  may  be  interested,  too,  to  know " 

But  what  the  interesting  item  was  Peter  never 
found  out. 

A  boy,  breathless  from  running,  came  rushing 
into  the  room. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  he  panted,  "  Mr.  Bryant  sent 
me  to  find  Peter  Strong  !  Young  Jackson  has  been 
hurt.  He  slipped  on  the  wet  floor  and  the  wheel 
of  a  heavy  truck  went  over  his  ankle.  Jackson  says 
it  is  only  a  sprain,  but  Mr.  Bryant  thinks  the 
bones  are  broken.  They've  telephoned  for  a  doctor. 
Jackson  is  lying  on  the  floor  awful  white  and  still, 
and  he  says  he  wants  Peter  Strong.  Mr.  Bryant 
told  me  to  tell  you  to  send  him  right  away." 

Peter  needed  no  second  bidding.  Down  the 
stairs  he  flew. 

Only  yesterday  he  had  longed  for  a  chance  to 
prove  his  friendship  for  Nat.  Now,  all  unsolicited, 

the  opportunity  had  come. 

in 


CHAPTER  VI 
TWO  PETEES  AND  WHICH  WON 

FLUTTER  with  anxiety,  Peter  fol- 
lowed the  messenger  back  to  the 
beamhouse. 

Of  all  people  why  should  this 
calamity  come  to  Jackson?  In 
addition  to  the  suffering  that  must  of  necessity  ac- 
company such  a  disaster  Peter  reflected,  as  he  went 
along,  that  Nat  could  ill  afford  to  lose  his  wages  and 
incur  the  expense  of  doctor's  bills.  Poor  Nat !  It 
seemed  as  if  he  had  none  of  the  good  luck  he 
deserved — only  disappointment  and  misfortune. 

Peter  found  his  chum  stretched  on  the  floor  in 
a  dark  little  entry  adjoining  the  workroom,  with 
Bryant  keeping  guard. 

112 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

"  I  am  down  and  out  this  time,  no  mistake, 
Pete ! "  called  Nat  with  a  rather  dubious  attempt 
to  be  cheerful.  "  You  see  what  happens  when  you 
go  off  into  another  department  and  leave  me.  I 
was  all  right  while  you  were  here." 

Peter  knelt  beside  him. 

"  I'm  mighty  sorry,  old  chap,"  he  said.  "  Does 
it  hurt  much  ?  " 

As  Jackson  tried  to  turn,  his  lips  whitened  with 
pain. 

"  Well,  rather  I  I  guess,  though,  I'll  be  all  right 
in  a  few  days.  It's  only  a  sprain." 

As  Peter  glanced  questioningly  at  Bryant,  who 
was  standing  in  the  shadow,  the  older  man  shook 
his  head  and  put  his  finger  to  his  lips. 

"  Well,  anyway,  Nat,"  answered  Peter,  trying  to 
feign  a  gaiety  he  did  not  feel,  "  you  will  at  least 
get  a  vacation.  I  told  you  only  the  other  day 
you  needed  one." 

"  I  don't  need  it  any  more  than  you  do,  Peter. 
Besides  I  can't  stop  work,  no  matter  what  hap- 
pens. What  would  become  of  my  mother,  and 
who  would  pay  our  rent  if  my  money  stopped 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

coming  in  ?  No  sir-e-e  I  I  shall  get  this  foot 
bandaged  up  and  be  back  at  the  tannery  to- 
morrow. The  doctor  can  fix  it  so  I  can  keep  at 
work,  can't  he,  Mr.  Bryant  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,  Jackson/7  replied  Bryant,  kindly. 
"  We'll  see  when  he  comes." 

But  the  doctor  was  far  less  optimistic.  He  ex- 
amined the  ankle,  pronounced  it  fractured,  and 
ordered  Nat  to  the  hospital  where  an  X-ray  could 
be  taken  before  the  bones  were  set. 

Nat,  who  had  endured  the  pain  like  a  Spartan, 
burst  into  tears. 

"  What  will  become  of  us — of  my  mother, 
Peter  ?  "  he  moaned. 

"  Now  don't  you  get  all  fussed  up,  Nat,"  said 
Peter  soothingly.  "Leave  things  to  me.  I'll 
take  care  of  your  mother  and  attend  to  the  house 
rent.  I  have  plenty  of  money.  You  know  I  have 
been  saving  it  up  ever  since  I  came  here." 

"  Oh,  but  Peter — I  couldn't  think  of  taking 
your  money!"  Nat  protested. 

"  Stuff !    Of  course  you  can  take  it !    I  should  like 

to  know  whose  money  you  would  take  if  not  mine. 

114 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

Anyway  you  can't  help  yourself.  I  have  you  in 
my  power  now  and  you've  got  to  do  just  as  I  say." 

"  But  I  don't  see  how  I  can  ever  pay  it  back, 
Peter." 

"  No  matter." 

"  It  does  matter." 

"Well,  well!  We  will  settle  all  that  later. 
Don't  worry  about  it.  I  am  only  too  thankful 
that  I  have  the  money  to  help  you  out,"  was 
Peter's  earnest  response.  "  I'd  be  a  great  kind  of  a 
chum  if  I  didn't  stick  by  you  when  you  are  in  a 
hole  like  this.  You'd  do  the  same  for  me." 

"  You  bet  I  would  !  " 

"  Of  course  !     Well,  what's  the  difference  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I'll  have  to  take  you  at  your  word, 
Peter,"  agreed  Nat  reluctantly,  after  an  interval 
of  reflection.  "  I  do  not  just  see  what  else  I  can 
do  at  present." 

"  That's  the  way  to  talk,"  cried  Peter  trium- 
phantly. "  I'll  look  out  for  everything.  See ! 
They  have  come  with  a  motor-car  to  take  you  to 
the  hospital !  You  are  going  to  have  your  long- 
coveted  ride  in  an  automobile,  Nat." 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Nat  laughed  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  I'm  not  so  keen  about  it  as  I  was." 

Gently  the  men  lifted  him  in  and  the  doctor 
followed. 

"  I'll  be  out  in  a  week,  Peter — sure  thing  !  " 
called  Nat  shutting  his  lips  tightly  together  to 
stifle  a  moan  as  the  car  shot  ahead. 

"  A  week,  indeed  !  "  sniffed  Bryant,  as  he  turned 
away.  "  It'll  be  nearer  a  month.  So  Jackson  has 
a  mother  to  look  after,  has  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  suppose  you  go  right  over  there  and 
ease  her  mind  about  this  accident  before  she 
hears  of  it  through  somebody  else.  Tell  her 
there  is  no  cause  for  alarm.  The  boy  will 
have  the  best  of  care  at  the  hospital,  and  she 
can  go  there  and  see  him  every  day  during  visit- 
ing hours." 

"  And  you  think  it  will  be  a  month  before 
he  will  be  about  again,  Mr.  Bryant  ?  "  questioned 
Peter,  anxiously. 

"  Oh,  I'm  no  doctor.  How  can  I  tell  ?  "  was 
Bryant's  somewhat  testy  answer.  "  One  thing  is 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

certain,  however;    he   won't  be  here  again   this 
week.     Sprint  along." 

And  so  it  was  Peter  Strong  who  bore  the  sorry 
tidings  to  Nat's  mother,  and  who  cheered  and 
encouraged  her  as  affectionately  as  if  he  had  been 
her  own  son ;  it  was  also  Peter  who,  during  the 
weeks  that  followed,  paid  the  Jacksons'  rent  and 
provided  sufficient  funds  for  living  expenses. 
How  he  blessed  his  motorcycle  savings  !  Without 
them  he  never  could  have  helped  Nat  at  this  time 
when  help  was  so  sorely  needed.  Far  from 
begrudging  the  money  Peter  exulted  in  spending 
it.  A  motorcycle  seemed  singularly  unimportant 
when  contrasted  with  a  crisis  like  this.  Yet 
magnificent  as  his  little  fortune  had  seemed  it 
dwindled  rapidly.  How  much  everything  cost ! 
How  had  Nat  ever  managed  to  keep  soul  and  body 
together  on  what  he  earned?  Peter's  savings 
melted  like  the  snows  before  the  warm  spring  sun- 
shine, and  one  day  the  lad  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
there  was  no  more  money  in  the  bank  and  that 
Nat's  mother  was  absolutely  dependent  for  food 

upon  his  daily  earnings.     It  was  a  new  sensation 

117 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

and  a  startling  one — to  know  that  you  must  work 
— that  if  you  stopped  some  one  dear  to  you  would 
go  hungry. 

Poor  Peter ! 

He  now  had  a  spur  indeed — an  incentive  to  toil 
as  he  never  had  toiled  before  ! 

Stuart  was  delighted  with  his  recently  acquired 
pupil. 

"  He  is  as  steady  a  little  chap  as  you  would  care 
to  see,"  he  told  Bryant  when  they  met  in  the  yard 
one  day.  "  And  he  is  bright  as  a  button,  too. 
Already  he  has  caught  on  to  the  various  finish- 
ing processes  and  is  as  handy  as  any  of  the  men 
in  the  department.  And  then  he  is  such  a 
well  spoken  lad  ;  not  like  many  of  the  boys  who 
come  into  the  tannery.  He  must  have  come  of 
good  family.  Do  you  know  anything  about  his 
people?" 

"  Not  a  thing.  I've  heard  that  Mr.  Coddington 
got  him  his  job  in  the  first  place,  but  that  may 
not  be  true ;  I  think,  though,  it  is  more  than 
likely,  because  they  have  pushed  him  ahead  faster 

than  is  customary.     But  at  any  rate  the  boy  has 

118 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

made  good,  no  matter  who  started  him.  He  will 
be  at  the  top  of  the  ladder  yet." 

Peter  Strong,  however,  was  not  thinking  at  the 
present  time  of  the  top  of  the  ladder.  His  mind 
was  entirely  set  upon  relieving  the  worry  of  his 
sick  chum  and  providing  the  necessary  comforts 
for  Mrs.  Jackson.  Only  on  Saturdays  had  he  time 
to  go  to  the  hospital  and  see  Nat ;  but  he  wrote 
long  letters— jolly,  cheery  letters,  which  he  dashed 
off  every  night  before  going  to  bed. 

"  About  every  man  in  the  tannery  has  inquired  for 
you,  Nat,"  he  wrote,  "  and  pretty  soon  I  am  going  to 
charge  a  fee  for  information.  Your  mother  is  all 
right,  and  declares  that  she  now  has  two  sons  instead 
of  one.  You  better  hurry  up  and  come  home,  or  she 
may  decide  she  likes  me  better  than  she  does  you  1 " 

How  Nat  laughed  when  he  read  that  message ! 
The  very  idea  I 

Of  all  this  busy  life  and  its  varied  interests 
Peter's  family  knew  nothing.  His  father  and 
mother  had  gone  for  a  month's  trip  to  the  Catskills 
and  there  was  no  one  but  the  servants  at  home  to 
tell  his  troubles  to  had  he  wished  to  unburden  his 

119 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

worries.  So  he  plodded  bravely  on  alone.  How 
glad  he  was  that  the  beamhouse  was  left  behind, 
and  that  during  those  warm  September  days  he 
could  work  in  a  large,  well-ventilated  room  where 
there  was  fresher  air.  Perhaps,  however,  he  grew 
a  little  thin  under  his  unaccustomed  load  of 
anxiety,  for  when  his  father  and  mother  returned 
from  their  vacation  Peter  was  conscious  more  than 
once  of  his  father's  fixed  gaze,  and  one  evening 
when  the  boy  was  going  to  bed  there  was  a  knock 
at  the  door  and  Mr.  Coddington  entered  the  room. 
For  a  few  seconds  he  roamed  uneasily  about, 
straightening  a  picture  here  and  an  ornament 
there ;  then  he  said  abruptly  : 

"  Well,  Peter — the  summer  is  almost  over. 
Here  it  is  nearly  the  middle  of  September  I  I 
fancy  the  weeks  have  gone  pretty  slowly  with 
your  friend  Strong.  What  do  you  say  to  quitting 
the  tannery  and  going  back  to  school  ?  " 

Peter's  breath  almost  stopped.  He  had  not 
dreamed  of  leaving  his  work.  Such  a  myriad  of 
thoughts  arose  at  the  bare  suggestion  that  he 

could  not  answer. 

120 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

Mr.  Coddington  misunderstood  his  silence. 

"  Of  course  you  are  astonished,  my  boy,  and  not 
a  little  glad,  I  imagine.  When  I  sent  you  to  the 
tannery,  however,  I  did  not  intend  to  keep  you 
there  permanently.  I  simply  wanted  to  wake  you 
up  to  doing  something  and  make  you  prove  the 
stuff  you  were  made  of.  You  have  done  that  and 
more  too.  I  have  heard  nothing  but  the  best 
reports,  and  I  am  proud  of  you,  Peter.  The 
tannery  has  served  its  purpose  for  the  present. 
Suppose  we  leave  it  now  for  a  while." 

Still  Peter  did  not  speak. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  disappointed  to  stop  short  of 
earning  money  enough  for  your  motorcycle/'  sug- 
gested Mr.  Coddington,  puzzled  by  the  lad's  si- 
lence. "  Is  that  it  ?  Tell  me  now,  how  much  would 
you  need  to  put  with  what  you  have  already 
saved  ?  Do  you  recall  the  sum  you  have  in  the 
bank  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  any  money  in  the  bank,  Father,"  was 
Peter's  unwilling  reply. 

"  What !     Not  a  cent  ?  " 

Peter  shook  his  head. 

121 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Have  you  drawn  it  out  and  spent  it  all  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that — sorry,  and  a  little  dis- 
appointed. However,  we  mustn't  expect  too  much 
of  you.  Come  now,  what  do  you  say  to  my  propo- 
sition of  returning  to  school  ?  " 

"  I  can't  do  it,  sir." 

"  What !  " 

"  I'm  afraid  you  can't  quite  understand,  sir. 
You  see  Peter  Coddington  would  like  to  go  back, 
but  Peter  Strong  won't  let  him.  Peter  Strong 
must  stay  at  the  tannery,  Father.  He  can't  leave. 
There  are  reasons  why  it  isn't  possible,"  Peter 
blurted  out  incoherently. 

"  What  reasons  ? "  demanded  his  father. 
"  You've  not  been  getting  into  trouble,  Peter  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

Mr.  Coddington  looked  baffled — baffled,  and 
displeased. 

Poor  Peter  I  He  longed  to  explain,  but  a  strange 
reticence  held  him  back.  He  had  never  mentioned 
at  home  either  Strong's  affairs  or  his  friends  and 

it  now  seemed  well-nigh  impossible  to  make  any 

122 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

one — even  his  own  father — understand  how  much 
he  cared  for  Nat,  and  what  this  disaster  had  meant 
to  them  both ;  besides,  it  was  too  much  like  blow- 
ing his  own  trumpet  to  sit  up  and  tell  his  father 
how  he  had  played  fairy  godmother  to  the  Jack- 
sons.  It  would  sound  as  if  he  wanted  praise,  and 
Peter,  who  was  naturally  a  modest  lad,  shrank 
from  anything  of  the  sort.  Accordingly  he  said 
never  a  word. 

Mr.  Coddington  wandered  to  the  window  and 
drummed  nervously  on  the  pane. 

"  You  have  no  more  explanations  to  make  to 
me,  Peter?"  he  asked  at  last,  turning  and  facing 
his  son. 

"  I — I'm  afraid  not,  sir.  You  see  it  is  hard  to 
explain  things.  No  one  would  understand,"  fal- 
tered the  boy. 

Chagrined  as  he  was,  Mr.  Coddington  strove  to 
be  patient. 

"  Come  now,  Peter,"  he  urged,  "  no  matter  what 
you've  done  let's  out  with  it.  Maybe  I've  made  a 
mistake  in  not  allowing  you  to  talk  more  freely 

here  at  home  about  your  affairs  at  the  tannery.    It 

123 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

certainly  seems  to  have  resulted  in  making  you 
less  frank  with  me  than  you  used  to  be.  Let  us 
put  all  that  behind  us  now.  Just  what  sort  of 
trouble  have  you  got  into  down  there  ?  " 

Words  trembled  on  Peter's  lips.  Would  it  be 
loyal  to  tell  his  father — to  tell  any  one,  all  the 
Jacksons'  affairs?  Nat  had  told  them  in  confi- 
dence and  had  not  expected  they  would  be  passed 
on  to  anybody  else.  No,  he  must  keep  that  trust 
sacred.  He  must  tell  no  one. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,  Father,"  he  said.  "  I'll  come 
out  all  right,  though.  Don't  worry  about  me. 
I've  just  got  to  keep  on  working  at  the  tannery  as 
hard  as  I  can." 

"Are  you  trying  to  pay  up  something?"  in- 
quired his  father,  an  inspiration  seizing  him. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Mr.  Coddington  realized  that  further  attempts 
to  get  at  the  truth  were  useless,  and  not  a  little 
perturbed  he  left  the  room. 

All  the  next  day  Peter  was  haunted  by  re- 
proaches. It  took  no  very  keen  vision  to  detect 

that  his  father  was  worried,  and  this  worry  the  boy 

124 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

felt  he  must  relieve.  His  course  lay  clearly  out- 
lined before  him  ;  he  would  go  to  the  hospital  and 
ask  Nat's  permission  to  tell  the  entire  story.  Much 
as  Peter  disliked  to  speak  of  what  he  had  done  to 
help  the  Jacksons  it  was  far  preferable  to  having 
his  father  suffer  the  present  anxiety. 

Accordingly  when  Saturday  afternoon  came 
Peter  set  forth  to  make  his  appeal  to  Nat.  It  was 
not  until  he  almost  reached  the  hospital  that  a  new 
and  disconcerting  thought  complicated  the  action 
which  but  a  few  moments  before  had  appeared  so 
simple.  How  was  he  to  explain  to  Nat  this  in- 
timacy with  Mr.  Coddington?  The  president  of 
the  company,  Nat  knew  as  well  as  he,  had  not 
been  near  Peter  since  he  entered  the  tannery. 
Why  should  young  Strong  suddenly  be  venturing 
to  approach  this  august  personage  with  his  petty 
troubles?  Of  course  Nat  wouldn't  understand — 
no,  nor  anybody  else  for  that  matter  who  was  un- 
acquainted with  the  true  situation.  Here  was  a 
fresh  obstacle  in  Peter's  path.  What  should  he  do  ? 

When  he  entered  the  ward  he  struggled  bravely 

to  bring  his  usual  buoyancy  to  his  command  ;  but 

125 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

if  the  attempt  was  a  sad  failure  it  passed  unnoticed, 
for  the  instant  he  came  within  sight  Nat  beckoned 
to  him  excitedly. 

"  Guess  who's  been  to  see  me  1 "  cried  he,  his 
eyes  shining  with  the  wonder  of  his  tidings. 
"  Guess,  Peter !  Oh,  you  never  can  guess — Mr. 
Coddington,  the  boss  himself!  Yes,  he  did,"  he 
repeated  as  he  observed  Peter's  amazement.  "  He 
came  this  morning  and  he  sat  right  in  that  chair 
— that  very  chair  where  you  are  sitting  now.  He 
wanted  to  know  everything  about  the  accident, 
and  about  you ;  I  had  to  tell  him  about  Mother 
and  the  rent,  and  how  you  were  taking  my  place 
at  home  and  paying  for  things  while  I  was  sick. 
He  screwed  it  all  out  of  me  !  He  inquired  just 
how  much  we  paid  for  our  rooms,  and  what  I 
earned,  and  how  long  I  had  been  in  the  beam- 
house.  Then  he  asked  what  Father's  name  was, 
and  what  Mother's  family  name  was  before  she 
was  married  ;  and  strangest  of  all,  he  wanted  to 
know  if  we  came  from  Orinville,  Tennessee.  That 
was  my  mother's  old  home,  but  I  don't  see  how 

Mr.   Coddington    knew   it,   do    you?     Goodness, 

126 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

Peter !  He  shot  off  questions  as  if  they  were 
coming  out  of  a  gun.  Then  he  began  to  ask 
about  you  and  where  you  lived,  and  who  your 
people  were.  Doesn't  it  seem  funny,  Pete — well 
as  I  know  you  I  couldn't  tell  him  one  of  those 
things?  So  I  just  said  that  I  didn't  know,  but 
that  Peter  Strong  was  the  finest  fellow  in  the 
world,  and  he  seemed  to  agree  with  me.  After- 
ward he  went  away.  What  ever  do  you  suppose 
made  him  come  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Peter  replied  thoughtfully. 

All  the  way  home  Peter  pondered  on  the  marvel. 
How  had  his  father  found  out  about  his  friendship 
for  Nat?  It  must  have  been  Bryant  who  had 
told  ;  nobody  else  knew.  Bryant  had  overheard 
Nat's  conversation  the  day  he  had  been  taken  to 
the  hospital,  and  Bryant  must  have  acquainted 
Mr.  Coddington  with  the  whole  affair.  Well,  it 
was  better  so.  His  father  now  had  the  facts,  and 
had  them  direct  from  Nat  himself.  Peter  would 
be  divulging  no  confidence  if  he  mentioned  them. 

During   the   next   few   days    many   a   surprise 

awaited  Peter  Strong.     When  he  went  to  pay  Mrs. 

127 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Jackson's  weekly  rent  he  was  told  by  the  landlord 
that  the  account  had  already  been  settled,  and  the 
rent  paid  three  months  in  advance.  A  gentleman 
had  paid  it.  No,  the  landlord  did  not  know  who 
it  was.  In  addition  to  this  good  fortune  Mrs. 
Jackson  astonished  the  boy  still  further  by  dan- 
gling before  his  gaze  a  substantial  check  which  she 
said  had  come  from  the  Coddington  Company 
with  a  kind  note  of  sympathy.  The  check  was 
to  be  used  for  defraying  expenses  during  the  ill- 
ness of  her  son. 

Peter  had  no  difficulty  in  guessing  the  source  of 
this  generosity. 

Nor  was  this  all.  Nat  scrawled  him  an  inco- 
herent note  that  bubbled  with  delight ;  he  had 
been  promoted  to  the  finishing  department, 
and  henceforth  was  to  receive  a  much  larger 
salary ! 

That  night  Peter  went  home  a  very  happy  boy. 
It  seemed  as  if  there  was  not  room  for  any  more 
good  things  to  be  packed  into  a  single  day  ;  but 
when  at  evening  a  crate  came  marked  with  his 

name,  and  on  investigation  it  proved  to  contain 

128 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

the  long-coveted  motorcycle,  Peter's  joy  knew  no 
bounds. 

"  Do  you  suppose  now  that  your  chum  Strong 
could  let  Peter  Coddington  return  to  school  ? " 
was  his  father's  unexpected  question. 

Peter  stopped  short. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  he  spoke ;  then  he  said 
slowly  : 

"  Father,  I  don't  think  there  is  a  Peter  Codding- 
ton any  more.  There's  only  Peter  Strong,  and  he 
is  so  interested  in  his  work  and  in  doing  real 
things  that  you  couldn't  coax  him  to  go  to  school 
if  you  tried — especially  since  he  has  just  been  given 
a  new  motorcycle  !  " 

Mr.  Coddington  rubbed  his  hands  together  as  he 
always  did  when  he  was  pleased. 

"  You  must  not  decide  hastily,  Peter,"  urged  he. 
"  Take  a  week  to  think  carefully  about  it  and  then 
tell  me  your  decision." 

"  But  I  know  now  !  "  cried  Peter.  "  A  little 
while  ago  I  thought  the  tannery  the  most  awful 
place  in  the  world  ;  I  hated  the  smell  of  it  and  the 

very  sight  of  the  leather.     But  somehow  I  do  not 

129 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

feel  that  way  now.  I  did  not  realize  this  until 
you  spoke  the  other  day  of  my  leaving  and  going 
back  to  school ;  then  I  was  surprised  to  discover 
that,  when  I  thought  it  all  over,  I  did  not  want  to 
go  back.  Work  can  be  fun — even  hard  work — if 
all  the  time  you  know  that  you  are  doing  some- 
thing real — something  that  is  needed  and  that 
helps.  If  you  don't  mind,  Father,  I'd  rather  stay 
in  the  tannery  and  aid  Peter  Strong  to  work  up." 

u  Do  you  still  insist  on  Peter  Strong's  doing  the 
climbing?  Why  not  give  Peter  Coddington  a 
chance  ?  " 

"  I'd  rather  not,  sir.  It  was  Peter  Strong  who 
began  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  and  I  want  him  to 
be  the  one  to  reach  the  top  if  he  can ;  it  is  only 
fair.  Please  don't  spoil  it  now  by  crowding  Peter 
Coddington  into  his  place." 

"  Well,  well !  You  may  do  your  own  way, 
Peter,  but  it  is  on  one  condition.  Nat  Jackson 
needs  a  trip  away.  The  doctors  say  he  is  tired 
out  and  won't  get  well  as  fast  as  he  should  unless 
he  has  a  change  of  some  sort.  I  am  going  to  ar- 
range with  his  mother  to  take  him  for  a  month  to 

130 


TWO  PETERS  AND  WHICH  WON 

the  seashore,  and  I  know  he  will  be  much  hap- 
pier if  Peter  Strong  goes  with  him.  What  do  you 
say?" 

Peter  looked  intently  at  his  father,  a  tiny  cloud 
darkening  his  face. 

"  You  need  not  have  any  compunctions  about 
going,  Peter,"  explained  Mr.  Coddington,  reading 
the  trouble  in  his  eyes.  "  Both  the  boys  have 
worked  faithfully  and  need  a  vacation.  Their 
positions  will  be  held  for  them  until  they  return 
and  their  pay  will  go  on  during  their  absence." 

"  Oh,  Father !  How  good  of  you  to  do  so  much, 
not  only  for  me  but  for  Nat  and  his  mother !  " 

Mr.  Coddington  did  not  reply  at  once.  After  a 
pause  he  said  gently  : 

"  Peter,  anything  I  can  do  for  the  Jackson  family 
is  but  a  small  part  of  what  I  owe  them.  All  my 
life  I  have  tried  to  trace  them.  I  have  searched 
from  Tennessee  to  Cape  Cod.  And  now,  here  in 
my  own  tannery,  I  find  the  clue  for  which  I  have 
been  hunting.  Your  friend  Nat  and  his  mother 
are  proud  people,  and  would  never  accept  all 
that  I  wish  I  might  offer  them ;  but  at  least  I 

131 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

have  this  opportunity  to  furnish  help  in  a  purely 
business  way.  To  provide  this  trip  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  me.  Some  time  you  shall  know  the 
whole  story  and  then  you  will  understand.  I 
want  you  to  know,  for  the  obligation  is  one  that 
will  go  down  from  father  to  son  so  long  as  a  Cod- 
dington  lives  to  bear  the  name.  Good-night,  my 
boy." 


132 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDEE 

F  Peter  expected  to  hear  more  of  the 
mysterious  tie  that  linked  his  family 
with  that  of  the  Jacksons  he  was 
disappointed,  for  his  father  did  not 
refer  to  the  story  again,  and  although 
the  boy  burned  with  curiosity  to  know  more  he  had 
not  the  courage  to  ask.  Had  not  Mr.  Coddington 
gone  steadily  forward  perfecting  plans  for  the  sea- 
shore outing  it  would  have  seemed  as  if  the  inci- 
dent had  entirely  slipped  from  his  mind.  But  the 
personal  interest  he  displayed  in  arranging  every 
detail  of  the  trip  proved  beyond  question  that  the 
memory  of  the  obligation  at  which  he  had  hinted 
was  still  vividly  before  him.  The  vacation  was 

133 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

arranged  without  trouble.  Mrs.  Jackson's  first 
objections  to  accepting  this  favor  at  the  hands 
of  the  Coddington  Company  were  quieted  when 
told  by  the  doctors  that  the  plan  would  be 
highly  beneficial  to  the  health  of  her  boy.  Both 
Peter  and  Nat  were  in  high  spirits.  To  lads  who 
had  been  confined  within  doors  all  summer  the 
prospect  of  bathing,  sailing,  and  a  month  in  the 
open  was  like  water  to  the  thirsty. 

Fortunately  Dame  Nature  herself  smiled  gra- 
ciously upon  the  project,  for  during  the  next  four 
weeks  she  coaxed  back  to  earth  warm,  golden  days 
from  the  fast  fleeing  Indian  summer.  The  magic 
touch  of  sunshine  and  fresh  air  flooded  Nat's  cheek 
with  healthy  color  and  as  if  by  miracle,  strength 
returned  to  the  delicate  ankle ;  as  for  Peter  he  be- 
came swarthy  as  a  young  Arab.  So  delighted  was 
Mrs.  Jackson  in  watching  the  transformation  in 
her  two  boys  that  she  was  quite  unaware  that  a 
soft  pinkiness  was  stealing  into  her  own  face.  A 
vacation  had  seemed  such  an  impossible  thing  that 
she  had  never  dared  picture  how  welcome  such  a 
rest  would  be. 

134 


THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER 

When,  weeks  later,  the  trio  returned  to  town 
and  Mr.  Coddington  surprised  them  by  meeting 
them  at  the  station  with  the  motor-car  his  gratifi- 
cation was  extreme.  He  waved  aside  all  thanks, 
however,  and  after  dropping  Nat  and  his  mother 
at  their  home  he  rolled  off  with  Peter,  explain- 
ing that  he  would  take  the  lad  to  his  own  door. 
Nat  wondered  not  a  little  where  that  door  was, 
and  he  would  have  been  overwhelmed  with  amaze- 
ment had  he  known  that  portals  no  less  pretentious 
than  those  of  the  Coddington  mansion  itself  opened 
to  receive  his  chum.  Very  wide  open  indeed  were 
they  thrown  when  the  car  bringing  Peter  and 
his  father  turned  into  the  long  avenue  leading  to 
the  house.  How  glad  Peter's  mother  was  to  see 
him,  and  how  satisfied  she  was  with  the  witchcraft 
that  wind  and  wave  had  wrought  I 

"  I  guess  there  is  no  doubt  that  now  you  are  fit 
either  for  school  or  for  work,  Peter,"  said  Mr.  Cod- 
dington. "  Which  is  it  to  be?  Are  you  still  firm 
in  your  decision  to  stick  to  the  tannery  ?  It  isn't 
too  late  to  change  your  mind,  you  know,  if  yon 
wish  to  do  so." 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  I'm  firmer  for  the  tannery  than  ever,  Father/' 
answered  Peter,  smiling. 

"  Going  to  fight  it  out,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Good  ! " 

It  was  only  one  word,  but  Peter  knew  that  his 
father  was  pleased. 

Accordingly  on  the  following  Monday  morning 
the  boy  again  took  up  his  old  work  in  the  finish- 
ing department.  Here  Nat  joined  him,  and  since 
this  branch  of  leather  manufacture  was  an  entirely 
new  world  to  Jackson  Peter  took  his  turn  at  ex- 
plaining its  various  processes,  and  felt  no  little 
pride  in  having  the  teaching  obligations  reversed, 
and  being  able  to  give  his  chum  instructions  con- 
cerning matters  of  which  he  was  ignorant.  The 
two  boys  were  becoming  quite  expert  at  boarding 
calfskins  and  had  settled  down  with  great  content- 
ment to  this  task  when  one  day  they  were  sur- 
prised and  perhaps  not  a  little  disappointed  to  re- 
ceive orders  to  leave  their  present  occupation  and 
report  for  duty  at  Factory  2,  the  sheepskin  tan- 
nery. 

136 


IN  THE  FINISHING  DEPARTMENT 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Another  beamhouse  !  "  exclaimed  Peter  in  dis- 
may. "  I  thought  we  were  through  with  that  sort 
of  thing  for  good  and  all,  Nat." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  likely  we'll  stay  there,"  was  Nat's 
hopeful  rejoinder.  "  Evidently  somebody  higher 
up  wants  us  to  have  this  chance  to  see  how  sheep- 
skins are  prepared  and  I,  for  one,  am  not  sorry  for 
I've  no  very  clear  idea." 

"  I'm  worse  off  than  you,  Nat,"  chuckled  Peter. 
"  I've  no  idea  at  all." 

"  Nonsense,  Peter  !  By  this  time  you  must  know 
the  general  process  for  preparing  skins." 

"  Why,  yes.  I  suppose  the  hair  is  taken  off  and 
the  skins  tanned  just  as  calfskins  are." 

"  Yes,  the  main  facts  are  the  same.  There  are 
many  points,  however,  where  the  processes  differ 
because  the  skins  of  sheep,  kids,  goats,  and  such 
creatures  must  undergo  entirely  different  treat- 
ment. The  kid  used  for  gloves  and  even  for  shoes, 
you  see,  is  far  more  delicate  than  is  the  calfskin 
that  we  have  been  finishing." 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  agreed  Peter  thoughtfully. 
"  Well,  I  suppose  we  shall  now  find  out  all  about 

138 


THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER 

it  and  that  it  will  be  interesting;  but  I  do  wish, 
Nat,  that  we  could  learn  it  somewhere  except  in 
another  beamhouse." 

Peter's  wish,  alas,  was  of  no  avail  and  accord- 
ingly once  more  the  two  boys  donned  rubber  boots 
and  overalls  and  started  again  at  the  foot  of  the 
ladder — this  time  in  Factory  2,  where  the  skins  of 
sheep,  kids,  and  goats  were  tanned.  Sheepskins, 
they  soon  learned,  were  received  by  the  tanners  in 
one  of  two  conditions  :  either  the  wool  was  already 
off  and  they  arrived  in  casks  drenched  or  pickled, 
many  bales  of  one  dozen  each  being  packed  in  a 
cask  ;  or  the  skins  came  to  the  tannery  salted,  with 
the  wool  on  and  precisely  in  the  condition  that 
they  were  when  taken  from  the  backs  of  the  sheep 
at  the  ranches  and  abattoirs.  So  long  as  the  hair 
was  on  the  skins  were  called  "  pelts  "  ;  but  the 
moment  the  hair  was  removed  the  skins  became 
"  slats."  The  pickled  skins  it  was  simple  enough 
to  tan,  for  they  had  been  carefully  prepared  for  the 
tanners  before  being  shipped  ;  there  were  firms,  the 
foreman  told  Peter,  that  did  just  this  very  thing. 
If  desired  the  pickled  sheepskins  could  even  be 

i39 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

worked  into  a  cheap  white  leather  without  further 
tanning.  Most  of  them,  however,  were  tanned. 

But  the  unhairing  of  the  sheep  pelts  was  a  dif- 
ferent problem.  After  they  had  been  soaked  about 
twenty-four  hours  in  borax  and  water  to  get  out 
the  dirt  and  salt  they  must  first  be  put  through  a 
machine  that  cleansed  the  wool  and  shaved  off  any 
fat  adhering  to  the  flesh  side.  Then  they  were 
ready  to  have  the  wool  removed.  A  very  delicate 
process  this  was,  Peter  and  Nat  soon  discovered. 
Each  pelt  was  spread  smoothly  on  a  table  wool  side 
down,  and  a  preparation  of  lime  and  sulphide  of 
sodium  was  spread  evenly  over  it  with  a  brush, 
great  care  being  taken  to  let  none  of  the  liquid 
used  get  upon  the  wool  side  of  the  skin.  The  pelt 
was  then  folded  and  left  from  eight  to  ten  hours 
until  the  solution  which  had  been  brushed  over  it  had 
penetrated  it  and  loosened  the  hair.  The  wool  could 
then  very  easily  be  pulled  off,  sorted  as  the  skins 
were  unhaired,  and  sold  to  dealers  as  "  pulled  wool." 

One  fact  interested  Peter  very  much,  and  that 
was  that  usually  the  slats  were  thinnest  where  the 

wool  was  longest. 

140 


THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER 

"  I  suppose  the  strength  of  the  sheep  all  went  to 
its  hair,"  speculated  he  to  Nat.  "  Isn't  it  funny 
that  it  should  I  " 

Another  thing  the  boys  learned  about  sheepskins 
which  was  very  different  from  the  treatment  of 
calfskins  was  that  before  the  slats  could  be  tanned 
they  had  to  be  put  through  a  powerful  press  and 
have  the  grease  squeezed  out  of  them. 

"  The  skin  of  a  sheep  has  a  vast  amount  of  oil 
in  it,"  explained  one  of  the  workmen,  "  and  it  is 
impossible  to  do  anything  until  this  grease  has 
been  extracted ;  so  we  put  a  bunch  of  skins  under 
a  heavy  press  and  then  collect  the  grease  that  runs 
out,  refine,  and  sell  it." 

Peter  and  Nat  watched  this  pressing  with  great 
interest. 

When  the  skins  came  out  of  the  press  they  were 
so  hard  and  stiff  that  it  was  necessary  to  put  them 
into  the  revolving  drums  that  separated  and 
softened  them.  This  was  called  "  wheeling  up  the 
slats."  The  odor  in  the  press  room  was  far  worse 
than  anything  that  Peter  had  yet  encountered — 

much  more  disagreeable  than  was  an  ordinary 

141 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

beamhouse.  Both  he  and  Nat  were  only  too  glad 
when  noon  time  came  and  they  could  get  out  into 
the  air. 

"  Whew  !  "  cried  Peter,  throwing  himself  down 
in  the  sunshine,  "  I  hope  they  don't  put  us  in  that 
press  room  to  work,  Nat." 

"It's  fierce,  isn't  it?"  Nat  answered.  "The 
men  must  hate  it." 

"I  suppose  they  get  accustomed  to  it  just  as  I 
got  used  to  the  beamhouse,"  Peter  said.  "  Why, 
when  I  began  work  in  the  beamhouse  of  Factory  1 
I  thought  I  never  could  endure  it.  Do  you  re- 
member how  you  tried  to  cheer  me  up  that  first 
day?" 

Nat  laughed  at  the  memory. 

"  Indeed  I  do.  You  looked  perfectly  hopeless, 
Peter." 

"That's  about  the  way  I  felt,"  smiled  Peter, 
"  and  I  believe  I'd  feel  so  again  if  I  thought  I  had 
weeks  of  that  press  room  smell  before  me." 

But  Peter  need  not  have  feared  any  such 
calamity,  for  after  lunch  he  and  Nat  were  given 

a  lesson    in   tanning  sheepskins  and   were  told 

142 


THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER 

they  were  to  work  at  that  task  until  further 
notice. 

The  process,  they  discovered,  differed  very  radi- 
cally from  the  calfskin  treatment  with  which  they 
were  so  familiar.  Many  of  the  slats  were  tanned 
by  being  laid  in  trays  of  fine,  moist  powder  that 
looked  like  brown  sugar. 

"  What  is  this  stuff?  "  inquired  Peter  of  a  man 
who  stood  near  by. 

"  That  is  sumac,  young  man." 

"  Sumac  !     Just  common  sumac  ?  " 

"  Well,  no.  It  is  the  same  sort  of  thing,  though. 
We  import  this  from  Sicily,  because  the  foreign 
leaves  grow  larger  and  contain  more  tannin. 
Sicilian  sumac  makes  better  leather  than  does  the 
American  variety,  which  comes  chiefly  from  Vir- 
ginia." 

Peter  nodded. 

"  And  how  long,  pray,  do  the  skins  lie  covered 
up  in  this  snuffy  brown  powder?  "  questioned  Nat. 

"  About  a  week,"  answered  the  man.  "  We  do 
not  tan  all  sheepskins  this  way,  however.  Some, 
as  you  will  see,  are  tanned  by  being  suspended 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

from  a  bar  into  a  vat  of  quebracho.  Others  are 
put  into  wheels  of  chrome  tan  just  as  calfskins  are. 
White  leathers  are  tanned,  or  more  properly  speak- 
ing tawed,  in  a  mixture  of  alum  and  egg-yolk." 

"  Egg-yolk  I "  gasped  Peter.  "  Eggs — such  as  we 
eat?" 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  that  they  are  such  as  you 
would  care  to  eat,"  grinned  the  man,  "  but  the 
yolks  come  from  eggs,  nevertheless." 

"  I  should  think  it  would  take  lots  of  men  to 
break  the  eggs  fast  enough  and  get  them  ready," 
murmured  Peter,  half  aloud. 

"  Bless  your  heart !  We  don't  break  the  eggs 
here ! "  roared  the  workman,  shaking  with 
laughter.  "  No,  indeed.  We  get  egg-yolk  by  the 
barrel ;  when  we  pour  it  out  it  looks  like  thin 
yellow  paint.  We  tan  kid  for  gloves  in  egg-yolk," 
he  went  on,  observing  that  both  Nat  and  Peter 
were  much  interested.  "  After  sheepskins  are 
tanned  the  leather  must  all  be  fat-liquored,  dried 
by  steam  or  air  fans,  dampened,  split  or  shaved  off 
to  uniform  thickness,  dyed  in  revolving  paddle- 
wheels  filled  with  color,  and  tacked  on  boards  to 

144 


THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER 

dry  just  as  calfskins  are.  The  chemists  who  have 
laboratories  up-stairs  test  the  dyes  and  mix  or 
match  the  colors  for  us.  Then  the  skins  go  to  the 
various  rooms  for  the  different  finishes.  And 
speaking  of  finishes,  I  suppose  you  went  into  the 
buffing-room  in  the  other  factory." 

"  No,"  said  Peter,  "  we  didn't— at  least  I  didn't." 

"  Nor  I,"  put  in  Nat.  "  The  door  was  always 
closed  and  no  one  was  admitted." 

"  They  don't  like  to  have  people  go  in  if  they 
can  help  it  because  every  time  the  door  is  opened 
it  stirs  things  up;  but  I  can  take  you  into  our  buff- 
ing-room if  you  want  to  go." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  cried  Peter. 

Accordingly  all  went  up-stairs  and  their  guide 
cautiously  pushed  open  a  door  on  which  No 
ADMITTANCE  was  scrawled  in  large  letters.  The 
moment  Peter  squeezed  through  it  he  drew  in  his 
breath  and  then  regretted  that  he  had  done  so,  for 
he  at  once  began  to  cough. 

The  boys  glanced  about  the  room  before  them. 

Every  window  was  closed,  making  the  air  hot 
and  stuffy ;  yet,  Peter  asked  himself,  how  was 

MS 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

such  a  condition  to  be  avoided  in  a  place  where  it 
was  evident  that  even  the  tiniest  draught  must 
create  instant  havoc  ?  This  room  which  Peter  and 
Nat  surveyed  was  thick  with  flying  white  particles 
that  were  being  whirled  into  space  from  rapidly 
turning  emery  wheels.  The  workmen  who  were 
busy  buffing  the  flesh  side  of  split  skins  in  order 
to  get  the  rough  surface  required  for  a  suede  finish 
seemed  enveloped  in  a  miniature  blizzard.  As  the 
swiftly  turning  discs  sent  clouds  of  white  dust  into 
the  air  it  settled  on  the  hair,  faces,  eyelashes,  and 
clothing  until  the  laborers  looked  like  snow  men 
moving  amid  the  blinding  flakes  of  an  old-fash- 
ioned storm.  Peter  and  Nat,  who  looked  on,  be- 
gan to  be  changed  into  snow  men,  too. 

"  I  guess  you  don't  want  to  stay  in  here  long," 
announced  their  guide,  raising  his  voice  to  be 
heard  above  the  noise  of  the  revolving  wheels. 
"  As  you  see,  they  are  making  '  suede/  or  ooze 
finished  leather.  Some  calfskins  are  finished  this 
way  too,  as  of  course  you  know.  A  certain 
amount  of  this  leather  will  be  left  white  for 

gloves    or   shoes ;    more   of  it,  however,  will   be 

146 


THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER 

stretched  on  boards  and  brushed  over  with  some 
colored  dye.  Suede  is  made  in  all  sorts  of  fancy 
shades  for  women's  party  slippers." 

Peter  nodded  and  then,  quite  without  warning, 
he  sneezed. 

Immediately  a  cloud  of  whiteness  shot  into  the 
air. 

"  Hurry  !  Let's  get  out !  "  cried  Nat.  "  I'm 
going  to  sneeze,  too." 

The  man  who  was  conducting  them  opened  the 
door  a  crack  and  they  all  three  slipped  through. 
Safe  in  the  outer  room  they  stopped  and  laugh- 
ingly surveyed  one  another.  All  were  as  white 
as  if  sprinkled  with  powder. 

"  Goodness  !  "  Peter  exclaimed,  rubbing  his  eye- 
lashes. "  How  can  those  men  breathe  ?  I  should 
think  that  in  a  day  they  would  swallow  enough 
dust  to  fill  their  lungs  up  solid." 

"  They  don't  mind  it." 

"  Well,  I  only  hope  we  shan't  be  put  in  there  to 
work." 

"  So  do  I !  "  was  Nat's  fervent  rejoinder. 

Fortunately  for  the  boys  they  escaped  doing  duty 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

in  the  buffing-room.  Instead  they  worked  through- 
out the  year  in  the  beamhouse  and  the  differ- 
ent finishing  departments  of  Factory  2.  Although 
this  factory  was  known  as  the  sheepskin  tannery 
they  soon  found  that  the  skins  of  lambs,  kids,  and 
goats  were  also  tanned  and  finished  there.  The 
skins  of  the  young  kids  or  goats  were  much  too 
delicate  for  shoes  and  were  made  into  thin  flexible 
leather  for  kid  gloves;  the  leather  commonly 
known  as  kid  and  used  for  shoes  was  not  really 
kid  at  all,  the  boys  were  told,  but  the  skin  of 
mature  goats.  Inquiry  also  brought  forth  the 
surprising  information  that  there  were  between 
sixty  and  seventy  different  kinds  of  goatskin,  the 
thickness  and  grain  of  the  material  depending  on 
the  climate  and  the  conditions  under  which  the 
animals  had  been  raised.  Some  of  these  skins 
were  imported  from  Brazil,  some  from  Buenos 
Ayres,  Mexico,  France,  Russia,  India,  China,  Trip- 
oli, or  Arabia. 

Goat  breeders,  the  foreman  said,  killed  their 
flocks  at  the  season  of  the  year  when  the  men  who 

collected    skins   made  their  rounds.     These  col- 

148 


THE  CLIMB  UP  THE  LADDER 

lectors  went  from  one  station  to  another  and  the 
goat  herders,  carrying  bundles  of  skins  on  their 
backs,  went  down  to  the  station  nearest  the  hill 
country  in  which  they  were  grazing  their  flocks 
and  sold  their  stock  to  the  collector,  who  promptly 
paid  them  in  cash.  When  the  collector  had  bought 
all  the  skins  he  wished  he  had  them  baled  and 
sent  them  across  country  to  the  nearest  seaport 
from  which  they  were  shipped  to  America.  Many 
of  the  skins  coming  from  India  and  Russia  were 
sent  first  to  London  and  then  reshipped  to  the 
United  States. 

All  goatskins,  of  no  matter  what  variety,  were 
tanned  by  the  chrome  process,  and  because  they 
were  smaller  and  of  lighter  weight  than  hides, 
tanned  much  more  quickly.  They  were  finished  in 
many  different  ways  :  glazed  kid,  which  was  made 
in  colors  as  well  as  black,  had  a  shiny  surface 
made  by  "  striking  "  or  burnishing  the  leather  on 
the  grain  side  ;  mat  kid,  soft  and  dull,  was  treated 
with  oil  and  wax ;  suede  kid  was  made  in  fancy 
colors  for  party  shoes.  These  were  some  of  the 

most  important  varieties.     Then  there  was  buck- 

149 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

skin,  the  skin  of  the  reindeer,  most  frequently 
buffed  and  finished  in  colors  for  gloves,  or  in 
white  for  shoes.  Kangaroo  was  also  classed  under 
the  head  of  kid. 

"  Is  patent  kid  finished  in  this  factory  ? "  in- 
quired Peter  one  day. 

"  No.  All  the  patent  leathers — both  patent  kid 
and  patent  calf — have  a  factory  all  to  themselves." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  it." 

"  Oh,  you  will  some  day,  no  doubt.  I  hear  they 
need  a  new  boss  over  there.  The  men  hate  Tol- 
man.  Who  knows  but  you  may  get  his  job  !  " 

Peter  laughed,  and  so  did  the  other  men  who 
chanced  to  be  standing  about. 

"  I  guess  there  is  no  danger  that  Tolman  will 
lose  his  place  on  my  account,"  replied  the  boy  with 
no  little  amusement. 

Many  months  later  when  Peter  met  Tolman  he 
recalled  this  incident  and  understood  more  fully 
why  the  men  disliked  him  and  felt  that  the  patent 
leather  factory  needed  a  new  head. 


150 


CHAPTER  VIII 
A  NAKROW  ESCAPE  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES 


LL  this  time,  strangely  enough,  no 
hint  of  Peter  Strong's  identity  had 
become  known.  It  was  little  short 
of  a  miracle  that  it  should  not  have 
been  discovered.  Many  circum- 
stances, however,  fostered  the  secret.  In  the  first 
place  none  of  the  men  from  the  tanneries  ever 
came  to  the  fashionable  west  side  of  the  town ; 
there  was  nothing  to  call  them  there.  Had  they 
come  the  chances  were  that  they  would  probably 
at  some  time  have  encountered  Peter  in  company 
with  his  father  and  mother  driving,  motoring,  or 
going  to  church.  Several  school  friends  had,  it  is 
true,  unearthed  the  interesting  information  that 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Peter  was  "  working,"  but  the  discovery  was 
greeted  with  but  scant  curiosity.  One's  place  in 
life  closes  up  very  quickly  after  one  drops  from 
sight.  When  the  idol  of  the  Milburn  ball  team 
had  vanished  it  had  caused  great  agitation  and 
for  a  brief  interval  he  had  been  sincerely 
mourned ;  then  some  one  else  had  been  raised  up 
to  fill  the  gap,  life  was  readjusted,  and  soon  Peter 
and  his  glorious  record  were  forgotten. 

Under  other  conditions  this  lack  of  loyalty  on 
the  part  of  his  friends  would  have  wounded  Peter 
sorely  ;  now,  however,  the  feeling  was'one  of  morti- 
fied pride  rather  than  pained  regret.  His  own  at- 
titude toward  his  former  comrades  had  also  in  the 
meantime  undergone  a  change.  The  boys  he  had 
looked  up  to,  even  the  wisest  of  the  seniors,  seemed 
to  him  very  young  indeed,  and  their  football  wor- 
ries pitiably  unimportant.  They  were  but  prepar- 
ing for  the  real  work  of  the  world  while  Peter, 
and  others  like  him,  were  actually  doing  it.  In 
consequence  not  a  lad  among  all  his  former  class- 
mates was  half  so  companionable  or  congenial  as 

was  his  new  friend,  Nat  Jackson. 

152 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

And  so,  as  the  months  sped  past  and  Peter's 
second  year  in  the  tannery  neared  its  end,  he  found 
himself  not  only  content  with  the  present  life  but 
more  and  more  absorbed  in  each  fresh  experience 
of  leather  making.  The  bond  with  the  Jackson 
home  strengthened,  and  the  desire  to  make  good 
at  his  "job"  drove  him  to  throw  all  the  interest 
and  power  of  his  strong  young  life  into  his  task. 

Winter  had  added  many  facts  to  his  growing 
knowledge  about  leather.  Up  to  February  he  and 
Nat  had  been  together  in  the  beamhouse  and  seen 
the  great  care  which  was  taken  that  the  freshly 
tanned  skins  should  not  freeze.  Fortunately  for 
the  Coddington  Company  most  of  their  buildings 
were  new  and  were  equipped  with  steam-heated 
lofts  where  drying  could  be  accomplished  with 
little  trouble  ;  but  one  or  two  of  the  old  buildings 
had  shutters  and  in  consequence  were  dependent 
upon  drying  the  wet  skins  in  the  outer  air.  If 
the  leather  was  allowed  to  freeze  its  fibre  was 
greatly  weakened  and  its  value  decreased.  Ac- 
cordingly during  cold  weather  the  shutters  in  the 
old  factories  had  to  be  closed  and  the  newly 

'53 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

tanned  hides  piled  on  the  floor  and  covered  with 
heavy  canvas.  Of  course  the  leather  rolled  badly, 
but  since  it  was  possible  to  dampen  and  stretch  it 
into  shape  this  difficulty  could  be  overcome. 

In  the  finishing  department  where  the  two  lads 
were  next  sent  many  more  new  features  swelled 
their  increasing  fund  of  information.  Wherever 
they  went  they  left  a  train  of  friends  behind  them. 
Peter  seemed  to  be  the  general  property  of  the 
tanneries.  The  men  quarreled  good-naturedly 
over  which  factory  could  really  claim  the  Little 
Giant.  To  all  this  chaff  Peter  returned  modest 
replies  and  the  odd  little  chuckle  that  had  so 
endeared  him  to  his  schoolmates.  Nobody  could 
imitate  that  chuckle — nobody — although  many  of 
them  tried.  It  was  a  part  of  Peter  himself,  a  part 
of  the  good  will  he  felt  toward  the  world  and 
everybody  in  it. 

"  You  can't  hear  it  without  your  heart  warming 
toward  the  lad,"  remarked  Carmachel  one  day. 

Armed  with  this  simple  weapon  Peter  went  on 
his  way.  He  met  the  men  about  him  with  a 
frank  expectation  that  they  would  like  him,  and 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

they  did.  Nat  also  made  friends,  but  as  he  was  a 
much  quieter  boy  most  of  those  who  sought  him 
out  did  so  because  he  shone  with  a  glory  reflected 
from  Peter.  Was  he  not  Strong's  chum?  He 
must  somehow  be  worth  knowing  if  he  had  that 
honor. 

This  rough  kindliness  of  the  workmen  robbed 
labor  of  much  of  its  hardship.  The  two  lads 
pushed  eagerly  ahead  and  were  delighted  when, 
toward  spring,  they  were  again  promoted — this 
time  to  the  department  which  turned  out  the 
tooled  and  embossed  leathers. 

This  was  one  of  the  most  fascinating  phases  of 
leather  making  and  for  a  long  time  it  had  inter- 
ested both  Peter  and  Nat.  It  seemed  too  good  to 
be  true  that  they  should  now  win  positions  in 
that  factory. 

"  It's  like  the  stories  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  the 
way  we've  gone  on  and  all  the  time  kept  together, 
Peter,"  Nat  said  one  day.  "  Think  of  it !  We 
have  been  given  more  money  and  better  jobs  all 
the  time.  I  do  not  just  see  why,  either.  Lots  of 
the  men  who  started  long  ago  in  the  beamhouse 

155 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

of  Factory  1  are  still  there  and  haven't  had  a  cent 
added  to  their  pay  envelope  ;  and  look  at  us  !  It's 
just  luck — that's  what  it  is." 

"  Not  entirely  luck,  Nat,"  objected  Peter,  shak- 
ing his  head.  "  Some  of  it,  to  be  sure,  is  sheer 
good  fortune ;  but  some  of  it  is  hard  work.  If  we 
had  not  made  good  every  step  of  the  way  I  doubt 
if  we  should  have  been  sent  on  up  the  ladder." 

"I  wonder!"  was  Nat's  thoughtful  answer. 
"  Do  you  know,  Pete,  I've  sometimes  thought  that 
perhaps  Mr.  Goddington  was  keeping  an  eye  on  us 
and  giving  orders  that  we  be  shoved  along.  He 
could  do  it,  I  suppose,  if  he  wanted  to." 

"I  suppose  he  could,"  agreed  Peter,  uneasily, 
"  but  he  is  pretty  busy,  and  is  it  likely " 

"  No,  of  course  it  isn't.  He  did  a  lot  for  me 
when  I  was  sick  and  it  isn't  reasonable  to  think 
he  would  do  anything  more.  He  wouldn't  be 
called  upon  to.  It  is  just  that  we  are  under  a 
lucky  star." 

"  I  wish  the  star  was  a  lucky  enough  one  to 
send  you  a  motorcycle  then,  Nat,"  laughed  Peter. 
"  You  know  this  going  off  riding  by  myself  is  no 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

sort  of  a  stunt.  I  don't  have  any  fun  at  all. 
Why,  I  would  rather  tramp  the  country  on  my  two 
feet  with  you  than  to  ride  all  over  it  without  you. 
Somehow  you've  got  to  get  a  motorcycle,  Nat — 
you've  simply  got  to." 

"  And  just  how  do  you  expect  me  to  carry  out 
such  a  crazy  scheme?"  was  the  derisive  retort. 
"  Maybe  you've  a  plan  to  suggest  whereby,  entirely 
without  a  cent,  I  am  to  purchase  a  toy  like  that. 
It  can't  be  done  without  Aladdin's  lamp — at  least 
I  can't  do  it  any  other  way.  A  motorcycle  indeed  ! 
Why,  I  have  not  a  cent  to  spend  for  such  a  thing. 
I  couldn't  even  buy  one  of  the  pedals,  let  alone 
anything  more.  Forget  it,  Peter,  and  let's  talk 


sense." 


"  I  shan't  forget  it,"  Peter  answered  earnestly. 
"  You  are  going  to  have  a  motorcycle  if  I  have  to 
— to — pawn  my  rubber  boots  to  get  you  one." 

They  both  laughed. 

Peter  was  in  great  spirits. 

This  was  their  first  day  in  the  new  factory  and 
as  the  boys  took  up  the  novel  task  of  learning  how 
to  make  embossed  leathers  he  made  the  inward  re- 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

solve  that  every  penny  he  earned  there  should  be 
put  into  the  bank  toward  a  motorcycle  for  Nat. 

The  embossing  department  was  indeed  a  won- 
derful place.  Such  magic  as  was  wrought  here  ! 
Pieces  of  dyed  leather  of  every  imaginable  hue 
were  put  into  great  machines  where  heavy  squares 
of  copper,  set  in  powerful  presses,  stamped  upon 
them  various  patterns  or  impressions.  The  de- 
signs engraved  on  the  dies  were  imitations  of  the 
texture  of  every  known  sort  of  fancy  leather. 
There  was  alligator,  lizard  skin,  pigskin,  snakeskin 
and  sealskin  ;  even  grained  leather  was  copied.  So 
perfect  was  the  likeness  that  it  seemed  impossible 
to  tell  the  embossed  and  artificially  made  material 
from  the  real. 

"  How  is  any  one  to  know  whether  his  card-case 
is  real  seal  or  not  ?  "  queried  Peter,  aghast  at  the 
perfection  of  the  dies. 

The  foreman  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  guess  you'd  have  some  trouble,"  said  he. 
"  Comfort  yourself,  though,  that  you  are  not  the 
only  one.  Just  this  fall  Mr.  Coddington  himself 

came  in  here  to  compare  our  leather  with  some 

158 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

pieces  of  seal  he  had  had  sent  him.  He  put  his 
samples  down  on  the  table  and  later  on  when  he 
went  to  get  them  he  could  not  tell  for  the  life  of 
him  which  they  were.  We  had  a  great  laugh 
about  it,  I  can  tell  you.  Yes,  we  do  pretty  good 
work  here,  and  we  have  about  all  the  orders  for 
pocketbook  and  bag  leather  that  we  can  fill.  At 
present  we  are  so  busy  that  we  are  running  all  the 
dies,  and  that  is  why  we  need  extra  men." 

Peter  and  Nat  found  that  the  department  was 
indeed  busy.  All  day  they  were  upon  their  feet 
feeding  pieces  of  leather  into  the  presses,  and  it  was 
their  fatigue — a  fact  unimportant  in  itself — which 
led  to  a  remarkable  chain  of  events  in  the  Cod- 
dington  tanneries. 

It  happened  that  one  morning  Peter  was  sent  up 
to  the  shipping  room  on  the  sixth  floor  of  the  fac- 
tory with  a  bale  of  finished  leather,  and  when  he 
was  ready  to  return  he  found  that  the  elevator 
which  he  had  used  in  coming  up  was  out  of  order, 
and  that  he  must  now  walk  down  the  many 
flights  of  stairs.  Accordingly  he  started,  whis- 
tling as  he  went.  When  he  reached  the  fifth  floor 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

he  was  much  surprised  to  discover  that  it  was 
vacant.  A  great  expanse  it  was,  flooded  with  sun- 
shine. Peter  paused  to  look  about.  Some  unused 
packing-cases  littered  one  corner  of  the  room  and 
instantly  the  thought  flashed  into  his  mind — what 
a  warm,  quiet,  secluded  spot  for  him  and  Nat  to 
eat  their  lunch  !  Why,  they  could  even  bring  a 
book  and  curl  up  in  the  shelter  of  the  boxes  and 
read.  As  it  was  still  too  chilly  to  go  out  there  was 
no  way,  during  the  winter  months,  but  to  huddle 
somewhere  under  the  machinery  of  the  factory 
and  eat  one's  lunch.  Peter  detested  the  arrange- 
ment, unavoidable  as  it  was,  and  always  rejoiced 
when  the  noon  hour  was  over. 

But  here  was  an  escape  from  such  disagreeable 
conditions.  Here  was  an  unused  room  !  Why 
should  it  not  become  a  refuge  from  the  noise,  the 
dirt,  and  the  turmoil  of  the  factory  ?  The  plan 
seemed  innocent  enough,  and  when  Peter  confided 
it  to  Nat  neither  of  them  could  see  the  slightest 
objection  to  it.  In  consequence,  at  noon  time  they 
crept  up-stairs,  and  arranged  a  cozy  little  corner 

for  themselves  behind  the  packing-cases.     It  was 

1 60 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

almost  as  good  as  playing  Robinson  Crusoe,  this 
building  a  fortress  and  hiding  inside  it.  Then, 
too,  the  constant  chance  of  being  discovered  pro- 
vided just  the  necessary  tremor  of  excitement  to 
make  it  interesting.  What  fun  it  was  I  They 
called  their  stronghold  Sterling  Castle,  and  many 
a  joke  and  jibe  they  made  concerning  it — jokes 
at  which  they  laughed  heartily  when  they  were  by 
themselves. 

The  vast  empty  space,  they  learned  by  cautious 
questioning,  had  originally  been  intended  as  a  sup- 
ply room  ;  it  was  found,  however,  that  it  was  not 
needed  for  this  purpose  and  therefore  it  had  been 
left  in  its  present  unoccupied  condition. 

There  seemed  not  an  iota  of  possibility  that  the 
place  would  ever  be  used  and  Peter  and  Nat 
exulted  in  the  fact  that  they  might  lunch  there  un- 
disturbed for  the  rest  of  their  days  if  they  so  desired. 
For  weeks  they  spent  every  noon  hour  in  the  sun- 
shine behind  their  barricade  talking  softly  to- 
gether, eating  their  luncheon,  and  sometimes  read- 
ing aloud. 

Then  came  calamity. 

161 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

It  was  on  a  sharp  April  day  when  the  shelter  of 
their  sunny  corner  was  especially  welcome.  Peter 
had  just  been  rolling  out  one  of  the  most  stirring 
chapters  of  "  Ivanhoe  "  when  suddenly  he  paused, 
listening  intently. 

"  It's  the  elevator  !  "  he  whispered.  "  It  is  stop- 
ping at  this  floor.  Somebody  is  getting  out,  Nat." 

"  Who  can  it  be  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  " 

The  two  boys  kept  very  still. 

Steps  and  voices  came  nearer. 

"  Yes,  every  floor  is  protected  by  fire-escapes,  as 
you  see,"  declared  a  voice. 

"  It  is  some  insurance  man,"  breathed  Peter. 
"  Don't  move,  Nat." 

"  Have  you  hand  extinguishers  here  also  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  each  corner  of  the  room  and  on  the 
walls." 

"  This  floor  is  not  in  use,  I  take  it." 

"  No,"  broke  in  another  voice— the  voice  of  Mr. 
Coddington  himself.  "  We  never  have  had  occa- 
sion to  use  this  floor,  although  we  probably  shall 

do  so  when  we  require  more  room  for  supplies. 

162 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

What  are  those  packing-cases  doing  here,  Tyler  ? 
They  look  as  though  they  were  empty." 

"  I  hardly  think  empty  cases  would  be  left  on 
this  floor,  sir.  They  shouldn't  be." 

Mr.  Tyler  was  evidently  annoyed. 

"  Empty  or  full,  they've  no  business  in  this 
room/'  said  Mr.  Coddington,  sharply.  "  They 
might  cause  fire." 

Simultaneously  the  three  men  stepped  forward  to 
investigate. 

Mr.  Tyler  kicked  the  back  of  the  nearest  case 
with  his  foot,  but  Mr.  Coddington,  who  never 
stopped  until  he  had  got  at  the  bottom  of  things, 
grasped  the  edge  of  one  of  the  great  boxes  and 
tried  to  turn  it  over. 

Now  it  happened  that  the  boys,  struggling  to 
remain  unseen,  had  huddled  into  this  very  box. 

"  The  case  is  heavy,  Tyler.  I  can't  stir  it.  Just 
see  what  is  in  it." 

Mr.  Tyler,  alert  to  obey,  dragged  forth  the  case 
with  the  assistance  of  the  insurance  agent  and  when 
it  was  tipped  up  and  Peter  and  Nat  tumbled  out  on 
the  floor  three  more  astonished  men  never  were  seen. 

163 


THE  THREE  MEN  STEPPED  FORWARD 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

"  How  did  you  two  boys  get  here  ?  "  questioned 
Mr.  Tyler  severely.  "  What  are  you  doing?  " 

Nat,  thoroughly  terrified,  looked  helplessly  at 
Peter.  He  couldn't  have  answered  had  he  tried. 
Peter  himself  was  a  good  deal  taken  aback.  He 
glanced  at  his  father  for  some  hint  as  to  how  to 
proceed,  but  Mr.  Coddington's  face  was  a  study  in 
conflicting  emotions  and  furnished  no  clue.  There- 
fore, after  waiting  a  moment  and  receiving  no  aid 
in  his  dilemma,  Peter  replied  simply : 

"  We  are  eating  our  luncheon." 

"  Eating  your  lunch  I  And  who  told  you  you 
might  come  here  for  such  a  purpose  ?  " 

"  Nobody.  It  just  was  a  big,  empty  place  with 
lots  of  sunshine  and  it  seemed  nicer  than  eating 
down-stairs,"  gasped  Peter. 

"  Are  you  sure  they  were  eating  their  lunch  and 
not  starting  a  fire  ?  "  suggested  the  insurance  in- 
spector in  an  undertone. 

"  Of  course  we  weren't  setting  a  fire ! "  Peter 
cried  indignantly,  hearing  the  whispered  words  of 
the  inspector.  "  We  just  came  up  here  to  get 

where  it  was  clean  and  quiet.     When  it  is  too  cold 

165 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

to  go  out  there  isn't  any  place  to  eat  except  right 
in  the  factory." 

"  Well,  that  is  no  excuse  for  your  coming  here. 
It  is  against  the  rule  for  any  of  the  employees  to 
come  above  the  fourth  floor  without  permission. 
I  thought  you  both  understood  that.  If  you 
didn't  it  is  your  own  fault.  You  may  finish  out 
your  week  here  and  on  Saturday  night  you  may 
consider  yourselves  discharged  from  the  tannery." 
Mr.  Tyler  put  his  hand  on  Peter's  shoulder.  "  I'm 
sorry,  Strong,"  he  added. 

"  Just  one  moment,  Tyler." 

It  was  Mr.  Coddington  who  spoke. 

"Tell  me  more  fully  about  this  matter,  Peter 
Strong.  You  say  you  have  no  suitable  place  to 
eat  your  lunch." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  What  do  the  other  men  do?  " 

"They  sit  around  under  the  machinery  any- 
where they  can.  Often  the  place  is  dirty  and 
sometimes  it  is  hot.  If  the  windows  are  opened 
to  air  the  rooms  the  men  get  cold,"  answered 

Peter. 

166 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

"  Strong  is  a  little  fussy,  I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Cod- 
dington,"  interrupted  Mr.  Tyler.  "The  condi- 
tions are  the  same  as  they  always  have  been — the 
same  as  they  are  in  most  mills.  The  men  can  go 
home  at  noon  if  they  like." 

"  But  they  can't  get  home,  and  eat  anything, 
and  get  back  here,  all  within  an  hour,"  objected 
Peter.  "  Besides,  they  are  often  too  tired.  It  is 
much  easier  to  stay  right  in  the  tannery.  Of 
course  in  warm  weather  we  have  the  park  and 
can  go  outside,  so  then  we  are  all  right ;  but  dur- 
ing the  winter " 

"That  will  do,  Strong,"  cut  in  Mr.  Tyler. 
"  Remember  your  time  is  up  this  week.  What's 
your  name?  "  The  superintendent  turned  severely 
on  Nat. 

"  Jackson." 

"  Oh,  yes — Jackson.  You  are  the  boy  who  was 
hurt." 

Nat  nodded. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  that  you  are  making  such  a 
poor  return  to  the  company  for  its  kindness  to  you. 

It  is  unfortunate  all  around.     But  we  cannot  have 

167 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

the  rules  of  the  tannery  broken.  Mr.  Coddington 
will,  I  am  sure,  agree  with  me  there." 

"  Undoubtedly,  Tyler.  Any  person  who  is  at 
fault  should  be  punished.  In  this  particular  case, 
however,  just  who  is  at  fault?  If,  as  the  lads  say, 
they  have  nowhere  to  go  at  noon,  is  the  fault  wholly 
theirs  if  they  seek  a  remedy  from  their  discom- 
fort ?  Suppose  we  suspend  their  sentence  until  we 
investigate  the  conditions  and  simply  caution  them 
not  to  repeat  the  offense.  Had  these  empty  cases 
not  been  left  here  by  some  negligent  persons  seclu- 
sion would  have  been  impossible.  Somebody  be- 
side the  boys  was  to  blame.  Order  the  boxes 
removed  and  drop  the  matter." 

Without  another  word  Mr.  Coddington  stalked 
toward  the  elevator  and  the  men  who  accompanied 
him  had  no  choice  but  to  follow. 

Peter  and  Nat  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

There  had  been  but  a  hair's  breadth  between 
them  and  a  discharge  from  the  tannery !  To 
Peter  the  danger  was  not  a  very  real  one,  but  Nat, 
who  was  in  ignorance  of  the  true  facts,  was  pale 

with  fright. 

168 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

"Whew,  Peter  I  That  was  a  close  call,"  he 
stammered.  "  A  narrow  squeak !  But  for  Mr. 
Coddington  we  should  both  have  been  fired.  I 
don't  know  what  I  should  have  done  if  I  had  lost 
my  place.  It  was  mighty  good  of  him  to  give  us 
another  chance,  wasn't  it?" 

"  Mr.  Coddington  is  all  right,  you  can  bet  your 
life  on  that ! "  agreed  Peter  heartily.  "  It  was 
lucky,  though,  that  he  was  here." 

Still  aglow  with  excitement,  the  boys  flew  down 
over  the  stairs  and  took  up  their  work,  making  no 
further  allusion  to  the  incident. 

But  that  night  when  Peter  got  home  his  father 
called  him  into  the  library  and  motioning  to  a 
chair  before  the  open  fire,  observed  dryly : 

"  Your  friend  Strong  had  a  narrow  escape  to- 
day, Peter." 

"  Yes,  sir.   But  for  you  he  would  have  lost  his  job." 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  the  president  nodded.  "  Since 
noon  I  have  been  thinking  the  matter  over.  What 
Strong  said  brought  things  before  me  in  an  entirely 
new  light.  I  don't  think  I  ever  realized  before 

some  of  the  conditions  at  the  tanneries." 

169 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Peter  waited. 

"  If  it  were  possible — mind,  I  do  not  say  it  could 
be  done — but  if  a  scheme  could  be  worked  out  to 
make  a  big  sort  of  rest  room  where  the  men  could 
go  at  noon  do  you  think  that  would  obviate  the 
difficulties  of  my  employees?  Would  it  prevent 
them  from  converting  packing-cases  into  lunch 
rooms?  " 

"  You  mean  a  big  room  with  tables  and  chairs 
where  the  men  could  go  and  eat  their  lunch, 
Father  ?  " 

"  Something  of  the  sort.  Perhaps  there  could 
be  magazines  and  books  there,  too." 

"  Hurrah  !  It's  a  splendid  plan.  When  will 
you  do  it,  Father?"  cried  Peter. 

"  I  didn't  say  I  was  going  to  do  it  at  all.  I 
merely  asked  you  to  find  out  your  friend  Strong's 
opinion.  Do  you  know,  some  of  Strong's  ideas 
are  not  so  bad.  Ask  him  if  a  room  such  as  I  de- 
scribe would  be  as  satisfactory  to  him  as  the  pack- 
ing-box lunch  room  from  which  he  and  his  friend 
Jackson  were  to-day  ejected." 

"  Of  course  Strong  will  like  it !  " 

170 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

"  I  think  I  will  give  the  orders,  then.  That 
vacant  floor  may  as  well  be  used  for  this  purpose 
as  any  other.  We  shall  not  want  it  at  present, 
and  if  we  ever  need  more  room  we  must  devise 
some  other  way.  I've  a  fancy,  somehow,  to  call 
the  new  venture  the  Strong  Reading-Room." 

Peter  started  to  speak. 

"  Purely  as  a  joke,  you  know,"  went  on  Mr. 
Coddington,  waving  his  hand.  "  Just  as  a  re- 
minder to  Strong  how  very  near  he  came  to  losing 
his  position." 

Mr,  Coddington  glanced  up  humorously ;  then 
he  chuckled  and  so  did  Peter. 


171 


CHAPTER  IX 
PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE  AND  RECEIVES  ONE 

LL  the  next  few  months  corps  of 
men  worked  secretly  transforming 
into  a  reading-room  the  great  va- 
cant place,  which,  on  that  memo- 
rable day,  Peter  and  Nat  had  appro- 
priated as  a  lunch  room.  Carpenters  laid  the  new 
floor  and  stained  it;  painters  tinted  the  walls  a 
soft  green ;  masons  constructed  a  hospitable  fire- 
place. One  end  of  the  room  was  furnished  with 
tiers  of  book-shelves,  tables,  chairs,  and  reading 
lights  ;  the  other  was  dotted  with  a  myriad  of 
small  tables  for  the  use  of  those  who  wished  to 
lunch  at  the  factories. 

Then   one  Sunday  afternoon  when  everything 

172 


PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE 

was  completed  Peter  and  his  father  made  a  clan- 
destine trip  to  the  tannery  and  admitting  them- 
selves, crept  up-stairs  where  Mr.  Coddington  un- 
locked the  door  of  the  "  forbidden  chamber."  The 
whole  room  glowed  with  sunshine  which  flooded 
the  polished  floors  and  reflected  its  brightness  in 
the  shiny  brass  andirons  adorning  the  fireplace. 

Peter,  who  had  not  seen  the  place  since  it  was 
finished,  exclaimed  with  delight. 

"You  are  satisfied  then,  Peter?"  inquired  his 
father,  enjoying  his  pleasure.  "  Do  you  think 
there  is  anything  else  that  your  friend  Strong 
would  suggest  ?  " 

The  lad  looked  critically  about. 

"  Only  one  thing,  and  perhaps  that  is  not  neces- 
sary after  all.  But  doesn't  it  seem  to  you  that  the 
space  over  the  fireplace  needs  a  picture  or  some- 
thing ?  It  looks  so  bare  !  " 

"  A  picture  !  I  had  not  thought  of  that.  Yes, 
I  see  what  you  mean." 

"Just  one  picture,"  went  on  Peter.  "Some- 
thing that  will  show  well  from  this  end  of  the 
room  when  people  come  in." 

173 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Yes,  it  would  certainly  be  a  distinct  improve- 
ment. We'll  have  a  picture  there. " 

Peter  raised  his  eyes  shyly  to  his  father's  face. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  nice,"  he  said,  "  to  have  a 
picture  of  you." 

"  A  picture  of  me  !  Pooh,  pooh  !  Nonsense  ! 
The  men  see  me  often  enough — too  often,  I  fancy. 
Remember  they  do  not  care  for  me  as  you  do.  No, 
indeed  !  I  could  not  think  of  sticking  my  own 
portrait  up  in  my  tanneries.  I  shouldn't  want  to 
see  it  myself." 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  would,"  admitted  Peter, 
reluctantly. 

"  But  we'll  have  a  picture  there  all  the  same, 
Peter.  Will  you  trust  me  to  select  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will.  Just  get  something  to  do 
with  sheep  or  horses — something  that  the  men 
will  enjoy  and  understand." 

Mr.  Coddington  smiled  down  into  the  eager 
face. 

"  I  guess  I  can  find  a  picture  the  men  will  like  ; 
it  may  take  a  little  while,  though,  to  get  just  the 
right  thing.  Had  we  better  throw  open  the  room 

174 


PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE 

now  without  it,  or  wait  until  everything  is  com- 
plete ?  " 

"Oh,  wait!  Wait!"  was  Peter's  plea.  "  Do 
not  open  it  until  everything  is  done  !  We  do  not 
need  to  use  the  place  at  this  season  of  the  year 
anyway,  because  the  weather  is  now  so  warm  that 
every  one  goes  to  the  park  at  noon.  The  secret 
can  be  kept  until  fall,  can't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Nobody,  with  the  exception  of 
Mr.  Tyler  and  the  workmen,  knows  about  the 
room  ;  and  they  are  pledged  not  to  tell." 

Accordingly  the  shades  of  the  new  reading-room 
were  lowered,  it  was  securely  locked,  and  the  key 
put  into  Mr.  Coddington's  pocket. 

As  the  hammering  that  had  for  so  long  echoed 
through  the  factory  ceased  queries  concerning  the 
noise  and  the  mission  of  the  carpenters  died  away. 
Even  Peter  himself  forgot  about  the  great  mystery, 
for  the  ball  season  was  now  on  and  in  addition  to 
its  engrossing  interests  he  and  Nat  were  transferred 
to  Factory  3  where  they  became  much  absorbed  in 
the  tanning  of  cowhides.  Here  again  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  leather  took  them  back  to  the  beam- 

175 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

house  with  its  familiar  processes  of  liming,  un- 
hairing,  puering  and  tanning.  Was  there  never 
to  be  an  end  to  beamhouses,  Peter  wondered. 

"  No  sooner  do  we  get  out  of  one  and  find  our- 
selves happy  at  some  clean,  decent  work  than  off 
we  go  to  another !  I  am  about  tired  of  beam- 
houses  !  "  wailed  Peter. 

Nevertheless  the  two  boys  stuck  resolutely  to 
the  beamhouse  and  to  tanning  cowhides. 

At  Factory  3  there  also  were  tanned  other  light 
weight  hides  that  underwent  a  chrome  process  of 
tannage  rather  than  the  oak  or  hemlock  processes 
used  at  the  sole  leather  plant  at  Elmwood. 

It  'seemed  to  Peter  that  he  had  never  dreamed 
there  were  so  many  creatures  in  the  whole  world 
until  he  began  to  handle  the  shipments  of  hides 
that  came  to  the  factory  to  be  tanned. 

"  Do  all  these  skins  come  from  the  ranches  of 
our  own  country  ?  "  he  inquired  one  day  when, 
from  the  window,  he  saw  a  train  of  heavily  laden 
freight  cars  come  rolling  into  the  yard.  "  Why,  I 
shouldn't  think  there  would  be  a  single  live  animal 

left  in  America." 

176 


PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE 

"  There  wouldn't,"  replied  the  boss  good- 
naturedly.  "  No,  indeed.  Only  a  small  part  of 
the  hides  tanned  here  and  at  the  Elmwood  tan- 
neries come  from  our  ranches.  The  United  States 
cannot  begin  to  produce  hides  enough  to  fill  the 
demand.  Therefore  we  import  a  great  many  from 
abroad  as  well  as  from  South  America.  When  a 
shipment  arrives  the  skins  are  sorted  :  the  cow- 
hides and  those  to  be  tanned  in  chrome  coming 
here,  and  the  heavy  skins  and  those  to  be  tanned 
in  oak  or  hemlock  being  sent  on  to  Elmwood, 
where  all  the  sole  leather  is  made.  The  hides 
vary  in  weight,  ranging  from  twenty-five  to  sixty 
pounds.  There  are  skins  of  steers,  horses,  buffaloes, 
walrus,  bulls,  and  oxen.  The  strongest  and  most 
perfect  ones  are  made  into  belting  to  run  the  ma- 
chinery of  factories.  Leather  for  this  purpose,  as 
you  can  easily  see,  must  be  of  equal  strength  in 
every  part  to  withstand  the  great  strain  put  upon 
it.  Some  factories  turn  out  belting  and  nothing 
else.  Other  heavy  hides  are  tanned  into  sole 
leather  for  harnesses,  bags,  trunks,  and  the  soles 

of  shoes.     Then  there  are  lots  of  hides  which  are 

177 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

not  perfect.  These  are  the  skins  of  branded  cattle 
and  steers.  You  know,  of  course,  that  on  many  of 
the  ranches  the  stock  is  branded  so  that  it  can  be 
easily  identified  in  case  it  is  lost.  These  branded 
hides  have  flaws  or  thin  places  in  them  and  are  not 
so  valuable  in  consequence." 

"  I  can  see  that,"  assented  Peter.  "  What  is 
done  with  such  leather  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  is  usually  tanned  in  oak,  or  in  a 
blend  of  oak  and  hemlock  known  as  union  tan, 
and  is  sold  for  purposes  where  less  strength  will  be 
demanded  of  it  than  if  it  were  made  into  belting." 

Peter  nodded. 

"  Oh,  there  are  lots  of  interesting  things  to  learn 
about  hides.  Why,  you  wouldn't  believe,  now 
would  you,  that  the  way  the  animals  live  would 
make  a  difference  in  the  weight  of  their  skins? 
Yet  it  is  so.  Cattle  raised  in  stalls  and  supplied 
regularly  with  good  food  have  far  better  hides  than 
those  that  range  the  fields  and  are  forced  to  forage 
for  the  scant  rations  found  there.  Wild  cattle,  on 
the  other  hand,  have  much  tougher  hides  than  do 

domesticated  animals." 

178 


PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE 

"  It's  curious,  isn't  it?"  replied  Peter. 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  the  foreman  answered.  "  Two  fac- 
tors always  go  hand  in  hand  in  the  making  of  a 
fine  leather.  One  is  the  quality  of  the  hide  itself; 
and  the  other  is  the  way  in  which  it  is  tanned. 
For  the  tanning  liquid,  you  know,  reacts  on  the 
fibres  of  the  skin  in  such  a  way  that  the  material 
becomes  tougher,  closer  grained,  and  more  pliable. 
Here  again  you  are  back  to  the  importance  of  the 
beamhouse  processes." 

All  these  items  of  information  Peter  and  Nat 
added  to  their  accumulating  fund.  Through  the 
long  summer  they  worked  hard,  classifying  all 
they  learned  and  collecting  more  as  one  gathers  up 
snow  by  rolling  a  snowball. 

Then  came  the  fall,  with  its  frosts  of  ever  in- 
creasing heaviness.  The  park  flowers  drooped ; 
baseball  failed  to  drive  the  cold  from  chilled  fin- 
gers ;  and  lunching  in  the  open  had  to  be  aban- 
doned. It  was  then  that  notices  were  posted  in  all 
the  tanneries  saying  that  at  noon  on  a  certain  day 
the  president  of  the  Coddington  Company  desired 
to  meet  his  men  in  the  vacant  room  of  Factory  2. 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Peter's  heart  beat  high  ! 

At  last  the  secret  of  the  reading-room  was  to  be 
made  public  I 

Would  the  men  like  their  new  quarters,  he 
wondered.  What  an  absurd  speculation  I  Of 
course  they  would. 

Yet  it  was  not  without  some  anxiety  that,  in 
company  with  Nat,  Peter  made  his  way  to  Fac- 
tory 2  the  moment  the  noon  whistle  blew  on  that 
great  day.  A  tide  of  workmen  moved  hither  with 
him.  On  every  hand  they  poured  in  through  the 
doors  and  streamed  up  the  stairways.  The  two 
boys  followed.  Everybody  was  speculating  as  to 
what  the  president  could  want.  Then,  as  the 
vanguard  of  the  crowd  reached  the  fifth  floor, 
Peter  heard  a  rush  of  sound — cheers  and  cries  of 
surprise.  The  mystery,  so  long  guarded,  stood 
revealed ! 

A  lump  rose  in  the  lad's  throat.  The  men  were 
pleased,  and  his  father,  who  had  spent  so  much 
time  and  money  on  the  carrying  out  of  this  project, 
would  consider  himself  more  than  repaid  for  all  he 

had  done.    Poor  Peter !    He  almost  felt  personally 

1 80 


PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE 

responsible  that  the  men  should  appreciate  his 
father's  kindness.  So  anxious  had  he  been  that 
had  those  hundreds  of  voices  not  risen  with  just 
the  spontaneity  they  did  it  would  have  broken  his 
heart.  But  the  cheers  swelled  from  the  scores  of 
throats  with  a  heartiness  not  to  be  questioned. 

Silently  he  and  Nat  pushed  their  way  into  the 
crowded  room.  Far  away  in  the  glow  of  a  blazing 
fire  Peter  could  see  his  father,  wreathed  in  smiles, 
talking  with  Mr.  Tyler.  And  it  was  just  at  that 
moment  that  the  boy  remembered  about  the  pic- 
ture which  was  to  have  been  purchased  and  raised 
his  eyes  curiously  to  the  space  over  the  fireplace. 
To  his  chagrin  the  spot  was  covered  with  a  piece 
of  green  cambric.  The  picture  his  father  had 
promised  to  buy  had  not  come!  For  a  fraction 
of  a  second  Peter  sobered  with  disappointment ; 
then  in  the  excitement  of  the  cheering  he  forgot 
all  about  it. 

In  answer  to  shouts  and  cheers  Mr.  Coddington 
stepped  forward  and  raised  his  hand. 

There  was  instant  stillness. 

"  It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  see  that  you  like 

181 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

the  room,"  said  he,  simply,  "  and  I  am  grateful  to 
you  for  so  heartily  expressing  your  approval.  But 
before  we  go  further  I  feel  it  is  only  honest  to  con- 
fess to  you  that  it  is  neither  the  Coddington  Com- 
pany nor  myself  that  you  should  thank  for  this 
new  library.  Shall  I  tell  you  how  you  chanced  to 
have  it?" 

"  Yes  !     Yes  I  "  came  from  all  over  the  room. 

Then  in  humorous  fashion  Mr.  Coddington 
sketched  the  tale  of  two  boys  and  an  interrupted 
luncheon,  drawing  a  vivid  picture  of  how  the  lads 
had  been  unceremoniously  tumbled  to  the  floor 
out  of  their  stronghold  in  the  packing-boxes.  Mr. 
Coddington  had  a  gift  for  telling  a  story  and  he 
told  this  one  with  consummate  skill. 

At  its  conclusion  there  was  a  general  laugh. 

"  Those  boys  are  with  us  to-day,"  continued  the 
president.  "  They  are  not  strangers  to  you.  One 
of  them  is  Nat  Jackson,  whom  you  all  know  well, 
and  the  other — the  lad  who  furnished  me  with 
the  inspiration  for  this  venture  is " 

Instantly    the   curtain  over  the   fireplace   was 

withdrawn. 

182 


PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE 

"  Peter  Strong  !  "  cried  the  men. 

It  was  indeed  Peter  who  smiled  down  on  the 
throng  from  out  the  broad  gilt  frame  !  Not  Peter 
Coddington  of  the  fashionable  "  west  side," — the 
son  and  heir  of  the  president  of  the  company,  but 
Peter  Strong — Peter  in  faded  jumper  and  with  the 
collar  of  his  shirt  turned  away  so  that  one  could 
see  where  the  firm  young  head  rose  out  of  it; 
Peter  with  hair  tumbled,  cheeks  flushed  from  hard 
work,  and  his  eyes  shining  as  they  always  shone 
when  he  was  happy  ;  Peter  Strong — the  Peter  the 
men  knew  and  loved  I 

The  boy  himself  looked  on,  bewildered.  Well 
he  knew  the  source  of  the  portrait.  It  had  evi- 
dently been  copied  from  a  snap-shot  Nat  had  taken 
of  him  one  day  when  the  two  were  coming  out  of 
the  beamhouse.  His  father's  delay  in  finding  a 
suitable  picture  was  also  now  explained.  He  had 
had  to  wait  for  the  portrait  to  be  painted. 

Nat,  who  was  watching  Peter's  face  with  no 
small  degree  of  amusement,  now  whispered  : 

"  I  kept  one  secret  from  you  anyhow,  Peter. 
Mr.  Coddington  came  to  see  us  one  evening  last 

183 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

spring  and  asked  if  I  had  any  kodak  picture  of 
you,  explaining  what  he  wanted  it  for.  So  I  let 
him  look  over  what  I  had  and  he  chose  this  one. 
It's  fine,  isn't  it?" 

"  Why,  I  don't  know,"  stammered  Peter.  "  I — 
I'm  so  flabbergasted  I " 

Nat  laughed. 

All  this  time  the  men  were  cheering  and  now 
cries  of  "  Peter  Strong  !  "  "  Peter  Strong  !  "  rent 
the  air. 

The  unlucky  Peter,  who  was  vainly  trying  to 
flatten  himself  against  the  wall  and  hide  in  Nat's 
shadow,  was  dragged  forth  by  Carmachel  and  made 
to  stand  upon  a  table,  from  which  elevation  he 
waved  his  hand  to  the  men  and  then,  ducking 
suddenly,  buried  himself  once  more  in  the  crowd. 

After  waiting  a  little  while  for  the  tumult  to 
subside  Mr.  Coddington  again  began  to  speak — 
this  time  in  a  low,  uncertain  voice  : 

"I  see  you  all  recognize  the  portrait.  It  is 
Peter  Strong  as  you  have  met  and  known  him. 
Yet  we  can  never  tell  what  the  future  will  unfold. 

If  it  chanced  that  time  should  bring  to  this  lad  a 

184 


PETER  AIDS  IN  A  SURPRISE 

career  fraught  with  greater  responsibilities  than  he 
now  holds  I  want  you  to  remember  that  he  came 
into  the  works  a  boy,  like  many  of  you  ;  that  he 
was  one  with  you  in  play  as  well  as  in  work ;  that 
he  toiled  at  the  hardest  tasks,  never  shunning 
what  was  difficult  or  disagreeable  ;  that  he  was,  is, 
and  I  hope  will  always  be,  your  comrade — the 
product  of  the  Coddington  tanneries." 

With  a  bow  and  a  smile  to  the  silent  crowd  be- 
fore him  the  president  withdrew.  Then  as  the 
workmen  turned  to  disperse  a  few  clear  words  from 
some  one  in  the  throng  behind  caught  Peter's  ear  : 

"  It's  more  than  likely  the  president  means  to 
push  Strong  along  to  the  top  of  the  ladder.  He  is 
mightily  interested  in  the  boy ;  anybody  can  see 
that.  Mayhap  the  lad  will  make  up  to  him  for 
his  own  son  who,  I've  heard  say,  is  a  lazy  little 
snob  and  a  great  disappointment  to  his  father." 


185 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

T  would  not  have  been  strange  if 
with  all  this  adulation  Peter  had 
come  to  think  himself  a  very 
clever  boy — perhaps  the  cleverest 
one  in  the  world.  Fortunately  for 
his  modesty,  however,  his  daily  life  did  not  tend 
to  foster  any  such  delusion.  He  received  oc- 
casional commendation,  it  is  true,  from  his 
superiors,  but  to  counterbalance  it  he  continued 
to  have  many  a  rebuke  thrown  at  him  dur- 
ing the  year  he  and  Nat  toiled  together  tanning 
hides.  The  newness  of  the  work  combined  with  a 
score  of  well-meant  blunders  placed  Peter  Strong 

on  entirely  equal  footing  with  other  workmen,  and 

1 86 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

quite  as  liable  to  correction.  Even  had  these  con- 
ditions been  otherwise  the  memory  of  the  lazy  lit- 
tle snob  who  was  a  great  disappointment  to  his  fa- 
ther would  have  served  to  crush  in  the  lad  any 
undue  sense  of  his  own  importance.  Considering 
the  popular  rating  of  Peter  Coddington  it  certainly 
was  just  as  well  that  he  had  entered  the  works  un- 
der some  other  name  than  his  own. 

But  although  the  bitterness  of  this  criticism 
rankled,  its  sting  was  removed  by  the  thought  that 
lazy  and  snobbish  as  Peter  Coddington  had  been, 
thanks  to  Peter  Strong  he  was  neither  lazy  nor 
snobbish  now  ;  nor  was  he,  the  boy  acknowledged, 
the  disappointment  to  his  father  that  he  might 
have  been  had  not  prompt  and  heroic  measures 
been  taken.  Yet  even  Peter  Strong  was  obliged  to 
admit  after  truthful  scrutiny  of  his  progress  that 
there  still  was  room  for  improvement.  Accord- 
ingly he  accepted  submissively  the  censure  that  fell 
to  his  lot  and,  as  Carmachel  said,  "did  not  consider 
himself  the  whole  tannery  just  because  one  room 
in  it  was  named  after  him." 

It  was  not  until  the  spring  of  that  year  that  the 

187 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

next  upward  step  came  ;  then  Peter  and  Nat  were 
sent  to  the  Elmwood  plant  for  a  few  months'  ex- 
perience at  the  sole  leather  factories.  The  incon- 
venience of  going  seven  miles  and  back  every  day 
was  nothing  to  Peter  because  of  his  motorcycle ; 
but  for  Nat  the  case  was  different.  Poor  Nat  was 
dependent  on  street  cars  and  once  or  twice,  owing 
to  delays,  was  tardy  at  the  works.  Then  one 
morning  the  trolley  broke  down  and  Jackson  was 
forced  to  walk  three  miles,  arriving  an  hour  late. 
In  consequence  his  pay  was  docked.  This  injustice 
was  too  much  for  Peter.  All  day  he  thought 
about  it. 

"  Father,"  he  asked  that  evening  when  he  ar- 
rived home,  "  do  you  think  you  would  like  to  lend 
Peter  Strong  some  money  ?  " 

"  Lend  money  to  Peter  Strong !     What  for  ?  " 

Hotly,  earnestly,  eloquently,  Peter  presented  his 
case  concluding  with  the  plea  : 

"  Strong  has  some  money  in  the  bank,  sir,  but  it 
is  not  enough.  If  he  paid  back  what  you  lent  him 
month  by  month  do  you  think  you  could  let  him 

have  what  he  needs  to  get  a  motorcycle  for  Nat  ?  " 

188 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

Mr.  Coddington  considered  carefully. 

"  I  do  not  at  all  approve  of  Peter  Strong's  bor- 
rowing money,"  said  he.  "  It  is  a  bad  habit  to  fall 
into." 

"  But  Peter  Strong  isn't  going  to  make  a  habit 
of  it,  Father.  And  he  isn't  borrowing  for  himself, 
you  know." 

"  Still  he  is  borrowing." 

"  Yes,  because  if  he  waited  until  he  had  the  cash 
in  the  bank  Nat  might  be  too  old  to  ride  a  motor- 
cycle," chuckled  Peter,  mischievously. 

A  quiet  smile  crept  into  the  corners  of  Mr.  Cod- 
dington's  mouth. 

"Well,"  admitted  he  deliberately,  "the  case  does 
seem  to  be  an  urgent  one.  I  might  for  once  con- 
sent to  break  over  my  rule  and  furnish  the  sum 
necessary.  Yet  it  is  quite  a  large  loan  that  Peter 
Strong  is  asking.  I  hope  he  will  have  no  trouble 
in  repaying  it." 

"  I  believe  he  can  manage  it  all  right,"  was  the 
earnest  reply.  "His  wages  have  been  going  up 
and  will  probably  be  raised  still  more  in  future. 

It  does  seem  a  little  bit  risky  to  loan  him  so  much 

189 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

money,  I  confess,  but  I  feel  sure  you  will  get  it 
back  if  you  are  not  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  for  it." 

Something  in  this  answer  evidently  amused  Mr. 
Coddington,  for  he  bit  his  lip  to  keep  back  a  smile 
and  walked  away  to  the  window  where  he  stood 
for  some  time  looking  out.  At  last  he  turned. 

"  We  will  close  the  deal,  Peter/'  said  he.  "  Since 
you  vouch  for  Strong  I  will  take  a  chance.  I 
would  advise  you,  though,  to  let  me  buy  the  motor- 
cycle, as  I  can  get  a  better  price  on  it  than  you 


can." 


"  Thank  you,  Father." 

Accordingly  the  dream  that  Peter  had  so  long 
cherished  really  came  true.  The  motorcycle  was 
purchased,  and  the  crate  containing  it  was  set 
down  at  the  Jacksons'  door  the  day  before  Easter. 

Peter  had  planned  not  to  say  a  word  to  Nat  aa 
to  where  it  came  from  and  therefore  was  not  a  lit* 
tie  chagrined  when  both  the  members  of  the  Jack*, 
son  household  jumped  at  once  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  Coddington  Company  had  sent  it.  Nat's 
mother,  who,  as  Peter  well  knew,  was  a  very  proud 

woman,  immediately  refused  to  accept  any  more 

190  . 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

favors  from  that  source  and  in  consequence  poor 
Peter  was  driven  to  confess  his  part  in  the  mystery. 

"  But,  Peter,  my  dear  boy,  you  can't  afford  any 
such  present  as  this.  How  have  you  the  money 
to  pay  for  so  magnificent  a  gift  to  Nat  ?  You,  too, 
are  working  for  your  living  and  although  you 
have  no  one  dependent  on  you  I  am  certain  you  do 
not  possess  a  sufficient  bank  account  to  warrant 
your  making  such  an  extravagant  purchase.  It  is 
like  your  big,  kind,  generous  heart  to  want  to  do 
it,  but  of  course  Nat  and  I  cannot  let  you  take  all 
your  savings  and  give  them  away.  How  did  you 
manage  to  get  the  motorcycle  anyway  ?  " 

"  I  borrowed  part  of  the  money,"  explained 
Peter  reluctantly. 

"  Oh,  Peter,  Peter !  Borrowing  is  a  dreadful 
habit !  Never  borrow  money.  You  had  much 
better  go  without  almost  anything  than  borrow 
money  to  get  it." 

"  But  I  am  paying  up  the  loan  week  by  week. 
My — the  man  I  borrowed  it  from  is  making  it 
very  easy  for  me,  and  is  in  no  hurry  for  the  whole 

sum.     You  had  better  let  me  have  my  way,  Mrs. 

191 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Jackson.  I  am  getting  good  wages  and  shall  soon 
be  earning  even  larger  ones.  I  might  blow  in  my 
spare  cash  on  something  dreadful — something 
much  worse  than  a  motorcycle,"  pleaded  Peter, 
teasingly. 

Nat's  mother  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  not  one  bit  afraid  that  you  would." 

"  Oh,  you  never  can  tell,"  chuckled  Peter. 
"  Besides,  can't  you  see  that  I  shall  have  twice  as 
much  fun  with  my  own  motorcycle  if  Nat  has  one 
too?  It  is  no  earthly  fun  to  go  riding  by  myself." 

This  and  many  another  such  argument  caused 
Mrs.  Jackson  to  waver,  and  having  once  wavered 
her  case  was  lost.  Peter  pursued  his  advantage 
and  after  a  whole  afternoon  of  reasoning  succeeded 
in  winning  Nat's  mother  to  his  point  of  view. 
The  motorcycle  therefore  was  accepted  in  the 
spirit  in  which  it  was  proffered  and  became  Nat's 
most  treasured  possession. 

What  sport  the  two  lads  had  going  and  coming 
from  work  !  What  wonderful  Saturday  afternoon 
rides  they  took  through  the  surrounding  country  ! 

Their  work  at  the  sole  leather  tanneries  was 

192 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

interesting,  too.  Here  many  new  phases  of  leather 
making  confronted  them.  First  there  was  the 
tremendous  weight  of  the  great  skins,  which  were 
so  unwieldy  that  they  could  not  easily  be  handled 
and,  like  cowhides,  had  to  be  cut  into  halves,  or 
"  sidees."  In  addition  to  this  they  were  usually 
split — sometimes  before  tanning,  sometimes  after. 
The  grain,  or  the  side  next  the  hair,  was  the  more 
valuable  leather.  After  being  split  once  the  splits 
could  be  split  again,  if  desired,  just  as  cowhides 
were.  Some  of  the  hides  were  tanned  in  oak  bark, 
some  in  hemlock,  and  some  in  a  mixture  of  both 
called  union  tannage. 

Oak  sole  leather,  the  foreman  said,  was  often 
considered  preferable  for  soling  shoes  because  its 
close  fibre  rendered  it  waterproof,  and  it  seldom 
cracked.  Much  of  the  fine  English  leather  im- 
ported into  this  country  was,  Peter  learned,  oak 
tanned.  Since  oaks  grew  so  plentifully  in  Great 
Britain  the  bark  was  much  less  expensive  there 
than  here. 

Hemlock  leather — so  deep  red  in  color — was, 
on  the  other  hand,  used  largely  for  heavy,  stiff 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

soles  to  common  shoes  for  men  and  boys,  since  it 
made  up  in  wear  what  it  lacked  in  flexibility. 

Union  leather,  being  a  combination  of  both* oak 
and  hemlock  tannage,  possessed  the  virtues  as  well 
as  the  faults  of  each ;  it  had  not  the  deep  red  of 
hemlock,  nor  the  fine  fibre  of  oak  tanned  leather. 
Still  it  was  a  flexible  material  and  was  used,  the 
foreman  told  Peter,  for  soling  women's  shoes. 

Sole  leather  seemed  to  the  boys  a  very  stiff  and 
solid  stuff  after  the  calf  and  sheep  skins  which 
they  had  previously  handled. 

Perhaps  they  did  not  enjoy  the  Elmwood 
tanneries  quite  as  much  as  the  home  works  at 
Milburn,  and  perhaps  they  longed  a  little  for  their 
term  of  service  there  to  be  completed.  Neverthe- 
less they  made  friends,  learned  much  that  they 
were  anxious  to  know,  and  had  their  motor  rides 
over  and  back  each  day  together. 

With  so  many  of  his  ambitions  reaching  fulfil- 
ment it  began  to  seem  to  Peter  as  if  life  were  a  very 
smooth  sea,  and  it  was  not  until  June  when  he  and 
Nat  were  transferred  to  the  patent  leather  factory 

that    he    had   his    first    experience    in    navigat- 

194 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

ing  rough  waters.  This  storminess  came  about 
through  Tolman,  a  sharp-ton gued  foreman  who 
did  not  hesitate  to  announce  that  too  much  favor- 
itism had  been  shown  Peter  Strong  in  the  past. 

"  I  bet  if  he  ever  comes  to  the  patent  leather 
factory  and  I  get  the  chance  I  will  take  some  of 
the  starch  out  of  him,"  Tolman  had  been  heard  to 
declare. 

Unluckily  he  held  just  enough  authority  to  be 
able  to  carry  out  his  threat.  Power  had  hitherto 
been  to  him  an  unknown  weapon.  He  had  been 
given  the  position  of  acting  foreman  of  the  new 
patent  leather  factory  only  because  of  his  long 
term  of  service  with  the  company.  It  was  under- 
stood that  he  was  to  hold  the  post  until  a  skilled 
and  competent  foreman  could  be  found  ;  but  while 
he  enjoyed  the  distinction  of  "boss"  he  made  as 
arrogant  use  of  his  sovereignty  as  he  could. 

From  the  first  he  blocked  the  way  for  Peter  and 
Nat,  not  only  by  refusing  to  pass  on  to  them  any 
information,  but  by  influencing  the  other  men  to 
follow  his  example.  Whether  he  feared  Peter 
Strong  might  usurp  the  vacant  foremanship,  or 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

whether  he  simply  cherished  a  grudge  toward  the 
lad  because  of  his  previous  good  fortune,*  it  was 
impossible  to  discover.  Whichever  the  case,  his 
attitude  was,  from  the  moment  the  boys  set  foot  in 
the  new  tannery,  one  of  complete  antagonism. 
Had  it  not  been  for  Peter's  agreement  not  to  in- 
trude his  personal  grievances  at  home  it  would 
have  been  easy  to  appeal  to  his  father  to  straighten 
out  the  difficulty.  But  Peter  would  not  for  a 
moment  consider  this  means  of  escape.  Therefore 
he  and  Nat  struggled  on  by  themselves,  picking 
up  what  scraps  of  information  they  were  able. 
Try  as  they  would  they  could  wring  from  the 
workmen  only  the  most  meagre  facts  about  mak- 
ing patent  leather. 

They  did  succeed  in  finding  out  that  the  shiny 
varnish  which  gave  it  its  finish  was  compounded 
in  an  isolated  brick  house  in  the  factory  yard 
where,  after  the  ingredients  had  been  carefully 
measured  out,  the  mixture  was  boiled  at  a  tremen- 
dous heat  in  great  kettles.  The  formula  for  this 
dressing  was  a  secret  and  was  the  result  of  many 

chemical  experiments.     All  Peter  and  Nat  could 

196 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

learn  was  that  there  was  oil  and  Prussian  blue  in 
it,  and  something  else  with  a  stifling  odor  which 
caused  it  to  dry  quickly.  No  one  was  allowed  in 
the  room  where,  in  the  intense  heat,  the  mixers — 
almost  naked — toiled  amid  the  clouds  of  steam 
which  rose  from  the  bubbling  kettles.  After  the 
liquid  had  reached  the  necessary  degree  of  temper- 
ature it  was  poured  out  into  tanks  where  it  was 
prevented  from  settling  by  being  constantly  agita- 
ted by  the  gentle  motion  of  revolving  paddles. 
Here  it  was  kept  until  taken  to  the  "  slickers  "  to 
be  used. 

"  And  the  reason  that  the  building  stands  off  by 
itself,"  declared  Nat  to  Peter  one  day,  "  is  because 
there  is  danger  of  the  oil  and  stuff  in  the  varnish 
taking  fire  or  blowing  up  ;  I  found  that  out  from 
one  of  the  men  to-day.  In  that  other  low  build- 
ing off  by  itself  are  stored  the  supplies  for  making 
the  varnish  and  that  place  has  to  be  isolated  too 
for  the  same  reason." 

"  Good  for  you,  Nat !  We've  gained  one  point 
anyhow.  Did  you  find  out  anything  else  ?  " 

"  No.     When  the  man  saw  that  I  was  really  in- 

197 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

terested  he  wouldn't  tell  me  anything  more. 
There  is,  though,  a  nice  old  Irishman — a  friend  of 
Carmachel's — here  somewhere.  I  met  him  once  at 
noon  time  over  at  the  park.  Maybe  he  will  help 


us." 


"  There  are  plenty  of  things  that  I  want  to  ask 
him  if  he  ever  turns  up,"  Peter  replied.  "  I  only 
hope  he  will  be  decent  to  us.  I  am  sure  he  would 
if  he  knew  how  hard  we  are  trying  to  learn.  One 
thing  I  am  anxious  to  know  is  why  on  earth  they 
don't  dry  the  freshly  varnished  patent  leather  in 
the  factory.  Look  at  the  work  it  makes  for  the 
men  to  bring  it  out  here  in  the  yard  and  stand  it 
up  against  these  hundreds  of  wooden  racks.  I 
should  think  by  this  time  it  would  have  dawned 
on  somebody  that  it  would  be  lots  less  trouble  to 
dry  it  indoors  in  a  hot  room  ;  shouldn't  you  ?  " 

But  it  wasn't  Nat  who  answered.  Instead  a 
voice  with  a  decided  Irish  brogue  replied  kindly : 

"  Well,  you  see,  my  lad,  no  way  has  ever  been 
found  to  dry  patent  leather  except  by  the  sun's 
rays.  If  somebody  could  invent  a  kind  of  japan 

that  would  dry  in  the  house  his  fortune  would 

198 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

be  made.  But  nobody  ever  has.  Every  fine  day 
tbe  hundreds  of  frames  have  to  be  brought  out 
and  propped  up  in  the  sun — a  jolly  bit  of  work, 
I  can  tell  you  1 " 

"  But  suppose  it  should  rain  ?  "  questioned  Peter, 
eager  to  get  all  the  information  he  could  out  of  the 
friendly  workman. 

"  If  the  weather  is  bad  of  course  we  do  not  put 
out  the  leather ;  in  case  a  sudden  storm  comes  up 
while  it  is  out  the  factory  whistle  sounds  and  every 
man  understands  that  he  is  to  drop  whatever  he  is 
doing,  no  matter  what  it  is,  and  rush  to  the  yard  to 
help  rescue  the  stock  before  it  is  spoiled." 

"  I  never  heard  of  anything  so  funny  I  "  cried 
Peter. 

"  Funny,  is  it?  You'll  not  be  thinking  so  when 
you  have  to  take  your  turn  at  it,"  protested  the 
Irishman,  grimly.  "  Just  you  be  busy  at  doing 
some  fussy  thing  you  can't  leave  and  wait  till  you 
hear  the  blast  of  the  whistle  !  Out  you'll  have  to 
cut  and  run  like  as  if  you  were  a  schoolboy  going 
through  a  fire  drill.  Then,  you  see,  there  are 

all  those  frames  of  wet  leather  to  be  set  up  some- 

199 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

where  indoors  where  they  won't  be  injured  until  the 
storm  is  over  and  they  can  be  carried  out  again." 

"  And  suppose  the  stormy  weather  lasts  several 
days?" 

"  No  leather  can  be  dried.  Nor  can  you  put  it 
out  on  very  dusty  days  lest  the  particles  in  the  air 
stick  on  the  moist  surface  and  dry  there.  A  strong 
wind  is  another  bad  thing,  because  it  catches  the 
frames  as  if  they  were  sails  and  often  smashes  them 
all  to  pieces,  spoiling  the  leather  stretched  on  them." 

"  Well,  it  does  seem  as  if  somebody  might  be 
smart  enough  to  think  of  some  plan  to  prevent  all 
this.  Have  people  tried — lots  of  people,  I  mean — 
to  make  a  gloss  that  will  not  need  the  sun  to  dry 
it?" 

"  Many  and  many  a  man  has  experimented 
and  failed,"  replied  the  workman.  "  For  years 
chemists  have  been  working  at  the  puzzle,  but  so 
far  they  never  have  got  anywhere." 

"  If  I  only  knew  more  about  chemistry  I'd  try," 
cried  Peter. 

The  old  man  looked  amused  at  the  boy's  en- 
thusiasm. 

200 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

"  Would  you,  indeed  !  "  grinned  he.  "  Well,  if 
you  succeeded  you  would  be  the  first.  But  I'm 
not  discouraging  you,  sonny.  Sure  if  none  of  us 
were  young  and  hopeful  nothing  great  would  be 
done  in  the  world.  You  sound  as  if  you  might  be 
Peter  Strong — the  lad  they  talk  so  much  of  in  the 
other  factories." 

"  I  am  Peter  Strong." 

"  I  might  have  guessed  it !  Carmachel  said  I'd 
know  you  because  you  had  the  strength  of  a  tiger 
cub,  the  smile  of  the  sun  across  the  lake  of  Kil- 
larney,  and  the  courage  of  a  fighting  cock.  It's 
good  to  see  you,  laddie,  starting  out  to  move  the 
world.  I  was  going  to  do  it  once  myself,  but  some- 
how I  never  did.  It  does  no  harm,  though,  to  set 
out  thinking  you're  going  to  budge  the  universe. 
Now  listen  to  me.  There  is  no  kindly  feeling 
toward  you  two  boys  in  this  place.  Tolman  is 
scared  that  you'll  get  his  job  away  from  him,  so 
he's  sore  on  your  being  sent  here ;  the  men  are 
afraid  of  him  so  they  side  with  him.  Let  me  give 
you  a  bit  of  advice  :  work  the  best  you  can  and 

have   little   to  say  to  those  around  you.     If  you 

20 1 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

want  to  find  out  things  keep  your  questions  until 
you  see  me  outside  and  I'll  tell  you  all  you 
want  to  know.  I  have  been  here  twenty  years, 
and  what  I  can't  answer  I  can  ask.  We'll  beat 
Tolman  yet,  the  three  of  us !  " 

And  so  to  the  kindly  old  McCarthy  Peter  and 
Nat  entrusted  their  fortunes. 

"  I  do  believe  we  are  going  to  like  it  at  this 
factory,  after  all,"  announced  Peter  to  Nat.  "  Cer- 
tainly we  shall  not  want  for  excitement.  There  is 
the  chance  to  invent  a  better  patent  leather  varnish 
which  will  dry  indoors ;  there  is  the  chance  to 
learn  the  mystery  of  making  patent  leather  de- 
spite Tolman ;  and  there  is  the  daily  liability  of 
having  to  tear  out  into  the  yard  and  rescue  the 
stock  from  a  sudden  shower.  It  is  going  to  be 
great  sport,  Nat !  " 

But  Nat  was  not  so  sanguine. 

Being  a  toggle-boy  was  far  from  easy  work. 

"  And  what  is  a  toggle-boy  ? "  inquired  Mrs. 
Jackson  at  the  end  of  their  first  day. 

Peter  and  Nat  only  laughed. 

They  enjoyed  using  big  words  that  mystified  her. 

202 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

"  Why,  you  see,  Mother,  toggle-boys  are  what 
we  are  at  present,"  said  Nat,  teasingly. 

"  But  what  does  one  have  to  do  to  be  a  toggle- 
boy  ?  "  persisted  she. 

"  I  am  afraid  a  toggle-boy  is  not  as  grand  a  per- 
son as  he  sounds,  Mrs.  Jackson,"  interrupted  Peter. 
"  Nat  and  I  are  down  at  the  lowest  rung  of  the 
ladder  again.  We  couldn't  get  much  lower  unless 
they  set  us  to  making  the  wooden  frames  the 
leather  is  stretched  on  before  it  is  japanned. 
Somebody  has  to  do  that.  The  frames  are  about 
three  yards  long  and  two  yards  wide,  roughly 
speaking ;  it  isn't  much  work  to  make  them, 
though,  because  the  light  thin  boards  come  cut 
just  the  right  size  and  simply  have  to  be  nailed 
together  at  the  corners.  Still  I  should  not  want 
to  be  set  to  doing  carpentry.  Even  a  toggle-boy's 
work  is  better  than  that — eh,  Nat  ?  " 

11  He  is  at  least  an  inch  nearer  making  leather," 
admitted  Nat  grudgingly. 

"  Of  course  he  is  !  You  see,  Mrs.  Jackson,  Nat 
isn't  stuck  on  his  present  job.  I  shouldn't  be 

either  if  I  expected  to  do  it  for  life.     It  is  not  a 

203 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

position  that  inspires  you  with  the  feeling  that 
you  are  well  on  your  way  toward  being  a  captain 
of  industry,"  Peter  chuckled.  "  No,  I'm  afraid 
there  is  more  than  one  step  between  being  a  toggle- 
boy  and  being  president  of  the  company." 

Nat  smiled  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Jackson,  to  make  our  career  a  little 
clearer  to  you  I'll  tell  you  more  about  the  toggle- 
boys,"  Peter  continued.  "  When  the  dyed  leather 
is  sent  over  from  the  other  factories  to  be  made  into 
patent  leather  it  is  first  stretched  on  the  wooden 
frames,  as  I  told  you,  so  that  the  gloss  can  be  put  on. 
The  reason  why  they  stretch  the  leather  on  frames 
instead  of  boards  is  because  a  frame,  being  open, 
allows  the  wet  japan  to  run  off  the  edges  of 
the  material  and  drip  through  to  the  floor  as  it 
could  not  do  if  it  were  stretched  to  a  solid  surface. 
They  have  found  that  for  many  reasons  it  is  much 
better  not  to  nail  the  leather  to  the  frames.  Nails 
make  holes  in  the  stock  and  waste  it ;  besides  the 
tacks  might  catch  in  the  brushes  as  the  men  work 
and  cause  the  dressing  to  spatter.  Then,  too,  the 

leather  is  irregular  in  shape  and  some  of  it  does 

204 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

not  reach  to  the  edges  of  the  frame  anyway.  So 
steel  nippers,  or  toggles,  are  snapped  at  intervals 
around  the  edge  of  the  material  and  by  means  of 
strings  knotted  to  the  nippers  the  leather  can  be 
pulled  out  tightly  and  tied  to  the  frame.  Do  you 
understand  ?  " 

Mrs.  Jackson  nodded. 

"  And  you  boys  are  the  ones  who  put  on  the 
toggles  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,  we're  not,"  replied  Peter,  a  little 
apologetically.  "  But  we  shall  be  some  day.  Just 
now  we  are  employed  in  taking  from  the  toggles 
that  have  already  been  used  the  strings  that  have 
been  cut  or  knotted,  and  substituting  instead  new, 
long  strings  so  that  the  nippers  will  be  ready  for 
the  men." 

"  It  isn't  much  of  a  job,  Mother,"  put  in  Nat, 
ruefully. 

"  I  admitted  it  was  not  next  to  the  presi- 
dency," declared  Peter,  laughing.  "  But  just 
keep  in  mind  that  we  are  not  going  to  do  it 
always." 

And  Peter's  prediction  was  true,  for  in  a  few 

205 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

days  notice  came  that  the  boys  were  to  be  pro- 
moted to  a  more  difficult  task. 

Strangely  enough,  and  fortunately  too  for  the 
beginners,  it  was  their  cheery  old  friend  McCarthy 
who  gave  them  their  first  lesson  in  trimming  off 
the  stock  to  fit  the  frames  ;  attaching  the  toggles, 
or  nippers ;  and  tying  the  leather  so  that  every 
part  of  it  could  be  drawn  out  taut. 

"  The  finishers,  or  slickers  as  we  call  them,  can- 
not put  any  gloss  on  unless  the  leather  is  perfectly 
tight,"  insisted  McCarthy. 

Peter  tugged  at  his  twine. 

"  What  kind  of  stock  do  they  use  for  patent 
leather  ?  "  he  puffed.  "  Let  me  see  !  This  must 
be " 

"  Colt.  Colt,  calf,  or  kid  is  used.  Colt,  as  you 
already  know  from  your  experience  in  the  tan- 
neries, is  either  the  skin  of  a  young  horse  or  the 
split  skin  of  a  full-grown  one.  It  works  up  into 
a  light  weight,  fine  grade  patent  leather.  Calf- 
skins you  know  all  about  too  ;  they  run  light  in 
weight  anyway  and,  you  remember,  only  need  to 

be  trimmed   down   to   uniform   thickness   before 

206 


THE  CLIMB  BECOMES  DIFFICULT 

tanning  and  dyeing.  Patent  calf  is  a  heavy,  air- 
tight leather  which  has  been  known  to  crack," 
whispered  McCarthy  with  a  wink,  "  but  if  it 
doesn't  it  wears  well.  Our  best  patent  leather, 
though,  is  made  from  kid " 

"  Which  in  reality  is  goat,"  interrupted  Peter. 

"  True  enough.  So  it  is.  Well,  patent  kid,  as 
we  call  it,  is  not  only  light  weight  and  elastic,  but 
it  is  also  porous.  In  fact,  it  is  the  only  patent 
leather  made  that  is  not  air-tight.  It  is  the  air- 
tightness  of  patent  leather,  you  know,  which 
makes  it  so  hot  to  wear." 

"  Why,  I  always  thought  the  trouble  was  with 
my  feet  I "  ejaculated  Peter. 

McCarthy  shook  his  head. 

"Well,  I  never!"  said  Peter.  "So  it  is  the 
fault  of  the  leather  itself." 

"  I'm  afraid  it  is,  young  one." 

"  Well,  that  settles  it !  I  never  shall  buy  an- 
other pair  of  patent  leather  shoes  as  long " 

"  Go  easy,"  retorted  McCarthy  dryly.  "  I  guess 
you  are  safe,  though,  to  make  that  vow.  Your 

toggle-boy  wages  won't  furnish  you  with  endless 

207 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

numbers  of  patent  leathers,  I  reckon.  But  cheer 
up!  You  won't  be  needing  pumps  here  at  the 
works,  for  while  the  richest  of  us  always  wear 
Tuxedos  every  day  we  excuse  the  small  salary 
people  from  appearing  in  full  dress." 

Peter  answered  the  jest  with  one  of  his  well- 
known  chuckles. 

He  was  in  high  spirits,  for  although  there  was, 
as  he  himself  was  forced  to  own,  many  a  step  be- 
tween him  and  the  presidency  of  the  Coddington 
Company  he  felt  he  had  at  least  made  one  loyal 
friend  in  the  patent  leather  factory — McCarthy 
from  the  County  of  Cork  ! 

When  Saturday  night  came,  however,  and  Peter 
received  his  pay  envelope  he  peered  anxiously  in- 
side it ;  then  he  drew  a  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"  It  is  a  lucky  thing/'  he  remarked  to  himself, 
"  that  Peter  Strong  is  not  on  real  toggle-boy  wages. 
If  he  was  he  never  would  be  able  to  pay  the  presi- 
dent another  cent  toward  Nat's  motorcycle  1 " 


208 


CHAPTER  XI 


TOLMAN  EXPEBIENCES  A  SHOCK 


URING  the  next  few  months  Peter 
and  Nat  talked  little  and  learned 
much.  An  occasional  question  was 
all  they  dared  to  ask,  and  that  only 
when  the  men  with  whom  they 
were  associated  seemed  amiably  disposed.  Far  from 
pushing  their  way  to  the  front  they  took  orders 
obediently  from  their  superiors,  slighting  no  task 
to  which  they  were  assigned,  no  matter  how  trivial 
it  appeared.  In  consequence  sentiment  throughout 
the  factory  slowly  turned  in  their  favor.  The  chill 
silence  of  the  workmen  melted  to  gradual  friendli- 
ness. Two  such  modest  boys  as  these  could  not  be 

coming  to  usurp  anybody's  position.     No,  indeed  1 

209 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

First  one  and  then  another  of  the  employees  ad- 
vanced bits  of  information  which  were  accepted  so 
gratefully  that  it  became  a  pleasure  to  follow  them 
with  more.  Before  two  months  had  passed  the 
general  opinion  prevailed  that  Tolman  had  been 
grossly  unjust  to  the  newcomers,  and  with  the  re- 
action a  strong  desire  arose  among  the  men  to 
atone  for  any  previous  unfairness. 

This  change  in  the  atmosphere  caused  the  good 
spirits  which  Peter  and  Nat  had  found  it  difficult 
to  sustain  through  the  ordeal  of  censure  and  mis- 
representation to  well  up  in  a  great  happiness. 
Their  daily  work  became  a  joy  instead  of  a  matter 
for  dread.  Making  patent  leather  certainly  was 
absorbingly  interesting. 

They  had  now  reached  the  department  where 
the  varnish  was  put  on  the  leather,  and  although 
not  skilful  enough  to  share  in  the  actual  doing  the 
boys  gained  much  knowledge  simply  by  watching 
the  process  and  asking  questions.  They  learned 
that  it  was  necessary  to  apply  three  coats  of  var- 
nish to  the  material,  and  when  the  slickers  put 
them  on  it  was  a  fascinating  operation.  Some- 


210 


TOLMAN  EXPERIENCES  A  SHOCK 

times  the  men  used  a  rotary  sweep  of  the  arm, 
swirling  the  varnish  round  and  round  over  the 
surface  of  the  leather ;  sometimes  they  took  quick 
backward  and  forward  strokes.  Usually  four  men 
worked  together  enameling  a  single  skin.  Ama- 
teurs would  have  spread  the  japan  too  thickly 
in  some  spots,  too  thinly  in  others ;  but  not  so 
these  veterans  at  their  trade.  Deftly  the  blue- 
black  liquid — so  elastic  and  so  oily — was  coated 
over  the  leather,  and  the  glistening  finish  put  out 
in  the  sun  to  dry.  After  the  second  coat  had 
hardened  it  was  rubbed  down  with  pumice  that 
the  surface  might  be  perfectly  smooth  before  the 
final  layer  of  japan  was  applied.  The  last  coat 
was  then  put  on  evenly  with  the  spreaders  of  thin 
wood,  and  before  the  material  was  put  out  for  its 
last  sunning  it  was  baked  in  an  oven  heated  to  a 
temperature  of  about  a  hundred  and  sixty  degrees. 
"  I  should  think  the  last  baking  would  be 
enough  to  dry  the  stuff  without  putting  it  out- 
doors a  third  time,"  ventured  Peter  to  one  of  the 
men. 

"  Wouldn't  you  !  "  responded  the  laborer  with  a 

211 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

smile.  "  But  no !  Nothing  but  the  sun  will  do 
the  business." 

"  It's  strange,  isn't  it  ?  "  mused  Peter. 

"  Strange,  and  almighty  inconvenient,"  his  com- 
panion assented. 

That  it  was  inconvenient  Peter,  after  his  months 
of  experience  at  the  factory,  agreed  only  too 
cordially.  Many  a  shower  had  fallen  and  more 
than  once  had  he  been  forced  to  rush  out  into  the 
yard  at  the  sound  of  the  whistle  and  help  the 
others  drag  the  half  dry  stock  to  a  place  of  shelter. 
Since  the  difficulty  was  one  not  to  be  obviated  it 
was  accepted  good-humoredly  as  an  evil  necessary 
to  this  branch  of  leather  manufacture. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Nat,  some  day  science  has 
got  to  find  a  way  to  get  rid  of  certain  obstacles 
that  stand  in  the  path  of  making  leather,"  de- 
clared Peter.  "Somebody  must  invent  an  un- 
hairing  device  to  do  away  with  the  taking  off  of  the 
white  hair  by  hand.  You'd  better  try  your  brain 
at  the  puzzle.  Another  chance  for  you  to  make 
yourself  famous  is  to  think  out  a  machine  for  soft- 
ening fine  leather  that  will  take  the  place  of  knee- 

212 


TOLMAN  EXPERIENCES  A  SHOCK 

staking.  Still  another  opportunity  to  write  your 
name  in  golden  letters  across  the  tanneries  of  the 
world  is  to  perfect  a  patent  leather  varnish  that 
will  dry  indoors.  Now  there  are  three  roads  to 
fortune  open  to  you,  old  man.  You'd  better  select 


one." 


Nat  grinned. 

"  After  you,  Peter,"  said  he.  "  You  choose  your 
path  to  fame  first  and  I  will  follow." 

"  I'll  leave  the  fame  to  you,  Nat,"  laughed 
Peter.  "  Somehow  I've  never  aspired  to  be  famous 
— it's  lucky  for  me,  I  guess,  that  I  haven't,  too." 

But  fame  came  to  Peter  notwithstanding — came 
that  very  day,  and  in  a  way  he  did  not  at  all  ex- 
pect. 

Directly  after  lunch  he  was  sent  by  Mr.  Tolman 
to  the  office  in  Factory  1  to  carry  some  samples  of 
finished  leather  to  Mr.  Tyler.  Little  dreaming 
how  eventful  was  to  be  his  errajid  he  set  out, 
whistling  as  he  went.  Mr.  Tyler  was  busy  that 
afternoon,  so  busy  that  he  glanced  hurriedly  at  the 
samples  of  stock,  gave  Peter  a  roughly  scrawled 

message  to  take  back,  and  dismissed  him.     Now  it 

213 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

happened  that  the  patent  leather  plant  was  quite  a 
little  walk  from  the  other  factories,  for  the  site 
purchased  for  it  was  far  less  convenient  than  the 
old  ball  field  would  have  been.  A  dusty  stretch  of 
road  intervened  which  wound  its  way  to  the  sum- 
mit of  a  rise  of  ground  and  then  sloped  gradually 
down  to  the  yard  of  the  new  factory.  Peter  ambled 
up  this  hill  none  too  swiftly,  for  the  day  was  hot, 
and  on  reaching  its  crest  he  was  surprised  to  notice 
that  although  the  sun  was  shining  brightly  over- 
head across  the  green  marshes  to  the  east  a  shower 
was  stealing  in  from  the  distant  sea. 

Instantly  his  mind  flew  to  the  tannery.  The 
patent  leather  would  have  to  be  rushed  in.  To- 
day an  unusually  large  quantity  of  stock  was  sun- 
ning on  the  racks,  and  it  would  take  the  united 
efforts  of  all  hands  to  get  it  under  cover  before  the 
approaching  storm  reached  the  factory  yards. 

Even  now  the  warning  whistle  should  be  sound- 
ing. 

Peter  stood  still  and  listened. 

But  no  discordant  blast  broke  the  stillness. 

He  quickened  his  steps. 

214 


TOLMAN  EXPERIENCES  A  SHOCK 

Despite  the  cloudless  blue  of  the  heavens  the 
wall  of  mist  with  its  burden  of  rain  was  steadily 
creeping  nearer. 

There  must  be  some  mistake. 

Tolman  couldn't  have  seen  the  storm  coming. 

Breaking  into  a  run  Peter  dashed  in  at  the 
factory  gate  and  raced  up  two  stairs  at  a  time  to 
the  office. 

Tolman  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  The  room  was 
empty  1 

Aghast,  the  boy  glanced  about.  Every  second 
was  precious.  What  should  he  do  ?  He  thought 
a  moment  of  his  father  and  what  the  loss  would 
mean  to  the  company.  Then,  without  further 
hesitation,  he  touched  the  bell  that  gave  to  the 
engineer  the  signal  for  the  blowing  of  the  factory 
whistle. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  interval  of  silence  in  which 
Peter  waited,  listening  only  to  the  beating  of  his 
own  heart,  was  endless. 

Then  the  well-known  belch  from  the  great 
chimney  told  him  that  his  warning  was  being 

carried  to  every  corner  of  the  building.     From  the 

215 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

window  he  could  see  the  men,  hatless  and  alert, 
pouring  out  into  the  yard. 

Eager  to  join  in  the  work  he  rushed  down-stairs 
and  was  soon  in  the  thick  of  the  excitement. 

Although  the  sun  was  still  unclouded  no  one 
questioned  the  wisdom  of  the  order.  In  and  out 
toiled  the  men  and  the  stock  was  very  nearly  all 
within  doors  when  Mr.  Tolman  strode  into  the 
yard. 

His  face  was  flushed  with  rage. 

"  Who  gave  that  signal  ?  "  he  bawled  when  he 
came  near  enough  to  be  heard. 

Every  one  stopped. 

Immovable  with  surprise  the  men  waited,  the 
great  frames  of  wet  leather  suspended  in  their 
hands. 

Peter  Strong  stepped  forward. 

"  I  did,  Mr.  Tolman,"  he  answered  quietly. 

"  How  dare  you  touch  that  bell !  I'll  teach  you, 
young  man,  that  we  have  no  practical  jokes  here." 

"  It  isn't  a  joke,"  Peter  said.  "  I  tried  to  find 
you  and  tell  you  that  a  storm  was  coming.  When 

I  couldn't,  I  gave  the  signal  myself." 

216 


TOLMAN  EXPERIENCES  A  SHOCK 

"  Who's  running  this  factory,  Strong — you  or  I  ? 
Tell  me  that." 

"  You  wouldn't  want  the  stock  ruined,  Mr. 
Tolman." 

"  That's  my  affair.  Storm  1  There  isn't  going 
to  be  any  storm  I  You're  a  meddlesome  young 
scoundrel  I  Just  because  you  have  had  some 
notice  taken  of  you  over  at  the  other  works  you 
think  you  can  come  in  here  and  run  the  whole 
place.  Well,  I'll  show  you  that  you  can't  manage 
my  business." 

Fuming  with  anger  Tolman  sprang  forward,  his 
arm  upraised. 

"  Don't  you  touch  that  boy,  Tolman  ! "  cried  a 
voice  from  the  crowd. 

It  was  McCarthy. 

But  the  man  was  too  enraged  to  heed  the 
warning. 

With  a  quick  thrust  he  struck  out  toward  the  lad. 

All  the  blood  in  Peter's  body  seemed  to  throb  in 
his  cheeks.  Swiftly  as  a  deer  he  leaped  forward 
and,  catching  the  upraised  arm,  he  held  it  as  if  in 

a  vise. 

217 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

11  Let  me  go  !  Let  me  go,  or  it  will  be  the  worse 
for  you,"  blustered  Tolman,  struggling  vainly  to 
wrench  himself  free  from  Peter's  grasp. 

"  I  shall  not  let  you  go  until  you  cool  down  a 
bit,  Mr.  Tolman,"  replied  Peter  firmly. 

"  You  had  no  right  to  meddle,"  snapped  Tol- 
man. 

"  I  had  the  same  right  that  any  man  has  to  pre- 
vent the  destruction  of  the  company's  property," 
was  Peter's  retort. 

"  You  let  me  go  this  minute,  you  young  cub,  or 
you'll  regret  it,"  yelled  Tolman  in  a  fury.  "  Who 
are  you  that  you  think  you  can  come  here  and 
give  orders  to  me  and  my  men  ?  " 

Fearlessly  Peter  met  his  eye.  Then  he  sent  the 
man  spinning  into  the  crowd. 

"  Who  am  I,  Mr.  Tolman  ?  Who  am  I  ?  I'll 
answer  that  question.  I  am  Peter  Coddington, 
and  I  have  the  right  to  protect  my  father's  prop- 
erty whenever  I  think  it  is  necessary." 

An  awed  silence  fell  upon  the  group  of  men. 

No  one  doubted  the  truth  of  the  lad's  assertion. 

It  spoke  in  the  dignity  of  his  whole  figure ;  in  the 

218 


HE  SENT  THE  MAN  SPINNING  INTO  THE  CROWD 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

proud  poise  of  his  head ;  in  the  unflinching  gaze 
with  which  he  met  their  eyes. 

Of  course  he  was  Peter  Coddington  ! 

Why  had  they  never  guessed  it  before  ? 

More  than  one  man,  as  the  work  of  carrying  in 
the  skins  was  completed,  reviewed  in  his  mind 
Peter's  career  at  the  tanneries  and  marveled  that 
he  had  not  suspected  the  secret  from  the  first. 

Tolman,  astounded  at  the  shock  of  the  discovery, 
paused,  then  shuffled  shamefacedly  forward  as  if 
to  offer  an  apology,  but  no  word  came  to  his  lips. 

The  awkwardness  of  the  stillness  was  dispelled 
by  Peter  himself,  who,  turning  at  last  to  the  men, 
said  simply :  "  We  made  good  time  getting  the 
leather  under  cover,  and  we  were  none  too  soon. 
See — here  comes  the  rain  !  " 

#  #  *  *  *  * 

How  the  news  sped  through  the  vast  tanneries  ! 
It  seemed  fairly  to  leap  from  one  building  to  an- 
other. On  every  hand  the  men  took  up  the  tale 
and  discussed  it. 

Peter  Strong — their  Peter — was  the  president's 

son  !    He  was  Peter  Coddington  ! 

220 


TOLMAN  EXPERIENCES  A  SHOCK 

It  was  all  too  wonderful  to  believe ;  and  yet, 
after  all,  it  was  so  simple  ! 

Why  hadn't  they  known  it  all  along,  the  work- 
men asked  each  other. 

"  He  was  a  thoroughbred  from  the  minute  he 
began  pitching  calfskins !  "  ejaculated  Carmachel. 
"  Think  of  it !  Think  of  his  pitching  calfskins 
in  my  old  brown  overalls — him  as  could  have 
picked  out  any  job  in  the  tannery  that  he 
chose ! " 

"  And  think  of  the  months  he  put  in  working 
in  the  beamhouses  too  I  Slaving  away  there  in  the 
smell  and  heat  just  like  any  of  the  rest  of  us!" 
said  another  man. 

"  And  how  he  duffed  it  in  the  other  department  I 
He  wasn't  afraid  of  getting  his  hands  dirty  !  And 
what  a  worker  he  was  !  " 

"  And  mind  how  he  stood  by  us  men  and  got  the 
park  for  us — stood  up  and  faced  his  father  man  to 
man.  The  Little  Giant  !  " 

"  Aye  !     Don't  forget  the  ball  playing  1 " 

"  And  how  he  brought  his  lunch  every  day  like 

the  rest  of  us  I  " 

221 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

On  every  hand  the  men  admitted  that  their 
idol,  Peter,  was  indeed  worthy  to  be  the  son  of  the 
president  of  the  great  Coddington  tanneries. 

"And  yet  I  can't  help  thinking,"  reflected  Car- 
machel,  "  that  in  spite  of  his  parentage,  and  his 
money,  and  everything  else  he  really  is  our  Peter 
— a  product  of  the  works,  just  as  his  father 
said." 

There  was  little  work  done  in  the  factories  that 
afternoon.  Excitement  ran  too  high.  Over  and 
over  the  men  talked  in  undertones  of  the  wonder- 
ful story.  Of  course  no  one  questioned  its  veracity 
and  yet  there  was  no  rest  until  the  tale  was  taken 
to  Mr.  Coddington  for  confirmation.  It  was  Tyler 
who  first  ventured  to  broach  the  matter  to  the 
president.  He  related  the  chain  of  events  leading 
up  to  Peter's  avowal  and  then,  receiving  no  reply, 
fumbled  uncomfortably  at  his  scarf-pin  and  wished 
he  had  not  spoken. 

Finally  Mr.  Coddington  glanced  up,  answering 
with  characteristic  terseness : 

"  Yes,  it  is  true  that  Peter  is  my  boy,  Tyler," 
he  said.  "  Not  a  bad  sort  either,  as  boys  go." 

222 


TOLMAN  EXPERIENCES  A  SHOCK 

"  Why,  he  is  one  boy  in  a  hundred,  Mr.  Codding- 
ton — a  son  to  be  proud  of  I  "  burst  out  Tyler. 

"  Oh,  Peter  has  possibilities,"  admitted  the  presi- 
dent with  a  smile. 

But  he  would  say  nothing  more.  Instead  he 
shut  himself  up  in  his  office  where  he  went 
determinedly  to  work.  But  those  who  peeped 
through  the  glass  door  could  see  that  throughout 
the  whole  afternoon  the  smile  that  had  lighted  his 
face  still  lingered  there  faintly. 

He  smiled  as  he  rode  home  in  his  big  limousine 
too,  and  he  continued  to  smile  during  dinner,  but 
he  said  nothing. 

Peter,  who  was  watching  him  closely,  thought 
every  instant  he  would  either  make  some  allusion 
to  the  events  of  the  day  or  make  some  opening  so 
that  he  could  do  so. 

Now  that  all  was  over  the  boy  was  not  a  little 
chagrined  that  in  a  moment  of  anger  he  should 
have  let  his  secret  pass  his  lips.  Henceforth  the 
game  was  spoiled.  Probably  his  father  thought 
he  should  not  have  lost  his  temper  and  blurted 

out  the  truth.     It  was  a  foolish  thing  to  do  and 

223 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

now  that  he  thought  it  over  coolly  Peter  regretted 
that  he  had  done  it.  He  longed  to  talk  with  his 
father,  but  he  did  not  just  know  how  to  begin. 

He  was  finally  spared  the  embarrassment  of  con- 
fession or  explanation,  for  as  the  president  pushed 
back  his  chair  from  the  table  he  remarked  casu- 
ally : 

"  So  your  secret  is  out,  son." 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  didn't  mean  to  tell,  but  I  got  so 
angry  at  Tolman,  Father." 

"  Well,  perhaps  it  is  just  as  well  to  travel  under 
your  own  name  from  now  on.  It's  a  rather  good 
name.  And  by  the  by,  Peter,  here  is  a  receipt  for 
the  money  Strong  owes  me  on  that  motorcycle. 
We'll  cancel  that  debt.  The  company  was  saved 
several  times  the  amount  by  getting  that  lot  of 
patent  leather  in  out  of  the  rain  to-day." 

"  But  I  can't  take  money  for  that,  Father," 
stammered  Peter. 

"  Strong  can.  That  will  close  my  dealings  with 
him.  To  me  it  is  worth  a  far  bigger  sum  than 
that  to  get  my  own  boy  back  again." 


224 


CHAPTER  XII 
MR  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STOEY 


NE  of  the  first  things  Peter  did  the 
next  afternoon  was  to  go  with  his 
father  and  mother  to  Mrs.  Jack- 
son's and  relate  to  her  himself  all 
the  happenings  of  the  previous  day. 
The  story  was,  to  be  sure,  no  surprise  to  her,  for  had 
not  Nat  rushed  home  and  incoherently  rattled  it 
off?  But  how  much  nicer  it  was  to  hear  it  from 
Peter !  The  boy  spared  no  detail  of  the  truth  ;  he 
told  of  his  school,  his  failures  there,  of  his  disgust 
at  being  put  into  the  tanneries,  of  his  desire  to 
conceal  his  identity.  During  the  tale  no  one 
interrupted  him.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coddington, 

Mrs.   Jackson,   and  Nat   all   listened  intently  to 

225 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

the  end.  Then  when  the  story  was  at  last  finished 
Peter  looked  up  and  smiled  at  Nat's  mother. 

"  So  one  of  your  sons,  you  see,  has  been  sailing 
under  a  false  name,  Mrs.  Jackson,"  he  concluded 
whimsically.  "  Do  you  think  you  can  forgive 
him?" 

"  You  must  try,"  pleaded  Mr.  Coddington,  put- 
ting in  a  laughing  word.  "  My  son  has  been  do- 
ing the  same  thing  and  yet  I've  overlooked  it." 

Everybody  smiled  and  the  tension  was  instantly 
broken. 

"  But  to  think  neither  Nat  nor  I  ever  suspected 
you,  Peter  ! "  mused  Mrs.  Jackson.  "  We  must 
have  been  very  stupid.  Why,  I  don't  see  how 
we  could  have  helped  guessing  the  truth  long 
ago.  As  I  look  back  on  it  all  it  seems  as  if  a 
score  of  incidents  might  have  told  us.  Either 
you  kept  your  secret  marvelously  well  or  Nat  and 
I  are  not  very  keen." 

"And  even  though  you  fooled  every  one  else, 
Peter,  I  can't  quite  understand  how  you  fooled 
me,"  murmured  Nat. 

"  Peter   certainly    carried  his  scheme   through 

226 


MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY 

well/'  declared  Mrs.  Coddington.  "  Yet  for  our 
part  we  are  very  glad  that  the  time  for  dissembling 
is  past." 

"  Indeed  we  are,"  Mr.  Coddington  echoed. 
"  This  game  of  Peter's  has  complicated  our  plans 
to  no  small  extent." 

"  Why,  Father,  I  did  not  know  it  made  any 
difference  to  anybody  except  myself,"  Peter  an- 
swered, looking  at  his  parents  in  surprise. 

"  Nevertheless  it  has  made  a  difference,  my 
son,"  returned  the  president  of  the  company 
kindly.  "  Strong  was  assuredly  a  good  fellow ; 
indeed  he  was  a  lad  to  whom  I  always  shall  feel 
grateful,  for  he  has  taught  me  several  lessons  that 
I  needed  to  learn." 

Peter  opened  his  eyes  very  wide. 

To  think  of  his  father's  learning  lessons  I 

"  Still,"  continued  Mr.  Coddington,  "  so  long  as 
Peter  Strong  and  not  Peter  Coddington  formed  a 
part  of  our  household  many  plans  which  we  had 
hoped  to  make  realities  had  to  be  abandoned. 
Now,  however,  we  shall  try  to  carry  through  some 

of  them  ;  one  in  particular  we  are  eager  to  see  ful- 

227 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

filled,  and  that  is  why  Mrs.  Coddington  and  I 
have  come  here  to-day." 

Peter  wondered  what  was  coming. 

His  mother  answered  the  question  that  trembled 
on  his  lips. 

"  Your  father  and  I  thought  best  not  to  tell  you 
beforehand,  Peter,"  she  said  softly. 

"  I'll  do  it,  whatever  it  is,  Father,"  cried  Peter. 
"  Only  please  do  not  say  that  you  want  me  to  go 
back  to  school.  I'd  even  do  that,  though,  if  you 
really  thought  I  had  better,"  he  added  bravely. 

Mr.  Coddington  dropped  his  hand  on  the  boy's 
shoulder  and  smiled  down  into  the  anxious  face. 

"  There  will  be  no  more  school  for  you,  son,"  he 
answered  slowly.  "  At  least  not  the  sort  of  school 
that  you  dread  so  much.  No,  in  future  you  must 
find  your  books  in  the  great  world  about  you — in 
men,  and  in  the  things  they  are  doing  ;  and  this 
education  of  yours  is  precisely  the  subject  I  came 
here  to  talk  about." 

Leaning  forward  the  president  began  slowly  : 

"  Mrs.  Jackson,  on  the  fifteenth  of  next  month, 

Mrs.  Coddington  and  I  are  to  sail  for  England." 

228 


MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY 

"  What  I "  gasped  Peter,  forgetting  for  the  mo- 
ment that  he  should  not  interrupt. 

"  We  are  to  take  Peter  with  us,"  went  on  Mr. 
Coddington  ignoring  the  interruption  and  proceed- 
ing in  the  same  earnest,  deliberate  tone.  "  He  has 
worked  hard  and  faithfully,  and  needs  a  good  rest. 
The  trip,  however,  is  not  to  be  an  entirely  profit- 
less one,  for  while  in  England  I  shall  take  him  to 
visit  some  of  the  finest  tanneries,  that  he  may  ob- 
serve other  methods  for  doing  the  same  things  that 
we  are  doing  here." 

An  exclamation  of  pleasure  escaped  Peter's  lips. 

His  father  smiled. 

"  After  we  have  collected  in  England  all  the  in- 
formation possible  and  have  seen  something  of  the 
sheep  country  there,  and  the  great  houses  from 
which  hides  are  shipped,  we  shall  go  to  Paris  and 
place  orders  for  several  large  consignments  of 
skins.  I  want  my  son  to  see  for  himself,  Mrs. 
Jackson,  just  how  this  end  of  the  business  is  con- 
ducted, for  I  hope  and  expect  that  some  day  these 
duties  will  be  his,  and  I  want  him  equipped  to 

meet  them  with  wisdom  and  intelligence." 

229 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  You  mean  that  you  are  going  to  fit  Peter  to 
manage  the  tanneries,"  nodded  Mrs.  Jackson. 

"  Precisely." 

There  was  a  pause. 

No  one  spoke. 

It  was  evident  that  Mr.  Coddington  had  more 
to  say,  and  that  he  was  finding  it  a  little  difficult 
to  continue. 

"  In  this  great  business,  however,"  he  went  on 
at  last,  "  Peter  will  need  help.  He  will  not  be 
able  to  carry  so  much  care  all  alone." 

"  But  you  will "  burst  out  Peter. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  around  here  for  some  time  yet, 
God  willing,"  replied  his  father  cheerily.  "  Still 
we  old  fellows  cannot  expect  to  stay  here  forever. 
We  must  consider  the  future,  dear  boy.  Therefore 
I  wish  to  train  up  another  lad  to  share  Peter's 
burdens  with  him — a  fellow  with  good  stuff  in 
him ;  some  one  whom  Peter  likes  and  can  trust. 
It  is  with  this  end  in  view,  Mrs.  Jackson,  that 
when  we  sail  for  England  we  wish  to  take  your 
son  with  us." 

"Me!" 

230 


MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY 

Nat  sprang  from  his  chair. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go,  Nat?"  asked  Mrs.  Cod- 
dington,  watching  the  light  leap  into  the  boy's 
eyes. 

"  Would  I  like  to  go  !  Why,  it  is  the  thing  I 
have  dreamed  of  all  my  life — dreamed  of,  and 
never  expected  to  be  able  to  do.  To  go  to  Europe  I 
To  see  all  those  places  I've  read  about  and  seen 
pictures  of!  Think  of  it!  Do  you  really  mean 
it,  Mr.  Coddington  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  do,  my  boy,"  answered  the  presi- 
dent, heartily  enjoying  his  delight.  "  I  cannot 
promise  to  take  you  to  all  your  dream-countries 
but  you  shall  see  some  of  them.  It  all  rests  with 
your  mother.  If  she  gives  her  consent  you  shall 

go." 

Mrs.  Jackson's  answer  was  ready.  While  Mr. 
Coddington  had  been  speaking  she,  with  woman's 
intuition,  had  leaped  forward  to  the  coming  ques- 
tion and  had  decided  upon  her  reply.  Her  one 
thought  was  for  her  boy.  She  did  not  permit  a 
consideration  of  self  to  bar  his  way. 

"  I  am  only  too  glad  to  give  my  consent,  Mr. 

231 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

Coddington,"  she  said  firmly.  "  It  is  a  great 
opportunity  for  Nat,  and  his  mother  would  be 
the  last  person  to  allow  him  to  refuse  it.  Of 
course  he  shall  go." 

Then  the  significance  of  her  words  broke  upon 
Nat. 

He  flushed. 

He  was  mortified  to  realize  that  in  his  enthu- 
siasm his  thought  had  been  only  for  himself  and 
his  own  pleasure.  For  an  instant  his  face  fell. 
Then  he  sprang  to  his  mother's  side  and  throwing 
his  arms  about  her  exclaimed  : 

"  Of  course  I  shall  not  go,  mother.  Go,  and 
leave  you  here  all  by  yourself !  I  guess  not  1  I 
did  not  think  at  first  that  my  going  would  mean 
that.  It  was  very  good  of  you,  Mr.  Coddington, 
to  ask  me,  but  nothing  would  hire  me,  sir,  to  leave 
my  mother." 

"  Oh,  you  would  not  be  leaving  me  for  long, 
dear,"  argued  his  mother,  crushing  the  boy's  cheek 
against  her  own  and  hurriedly  dashing  away  a 
tear.  "  Why,  people  go  back  and  forth  across  the 

ocean  every  day.     It  is  not — not  far — very  far. 

232 


MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY 

You  could  write  to  me  often  and  before  you  or  I 
knew  it  you  would  be  back  at  home  again."  The 
trembling  voice  gained  steadiness.  "  Why,  it 
would  be  nothing  at  all,  Nat  1  And  think  of  all 
the  stories  you  would  have  to  tell  me !  While 
you  were  away  I  could  get  books  and  read  about 
the  places  you  were  seeing  and " 

"I  never  shall  leave  you  here  alone,  mother, 
never !  "  repeated  Nat. 

"  But  we  do  not  mean  to  have  you  leave  your 
mother,  Nat  dear,"  Mrs.  Coddington  said.  "  You 
have  not  waited  to  hear  the  end  of  our  plan. 
Your  mother  is  to  go  too.  She  is  to  be  my  guest 
on  the  trip.  Oh,  yes,  Mrs.  Jackson.  That  is  the 
other  part  of  our  plan.  I  shall  be  very  forlorn 
while  these  three  leather  makers  are  rushing  about 
among  the  tanneries  and  warehouses.  They  won't 
want  to  take  me  with  them — nor  am  I  at  all  sure 
I  should  care  to  go  if  they  did.  So  I  am  depend- 
ing for  my  pleasure  on  your  companionship,  you 


see." 


With  charming  grace  she  bent  forward  and  put 
her  hand  pleadingly  on  Mrs.  Jackson's. 

233 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  You  won't  refuse  Peter's  mother  this  favor, 
will  you  ?  "  she  begged. 

Mrs.  Jackson  covered  the  hand  with  her  own 
slender  one  and  when  she  answered  her  voice 
quivered  with  emotion. 

"  You  are  very,  very  kind,  both  you  and  Mr. 
Coddington,"  she  answered.  "  I  have  no  words 
to  thank  you ;  but  believe  me,  while  I  heartily 
appreciate  your  generosity,  I  feel  that  too  much 
has  already  been  done  for  Nat' and  me — far  more 
than  I  should  have  accepted  had  I  realized  that  it 
was  Mr.  Coddington  himself  and  not  the  company 
who  was  doing  it.  Do  not  consider  me  ungracious 
in  being  unwilling  to  add  this  favor  to  the  others. 
I  would  rather  be  under  obligations  to  you  and  Mr. 
Coddington  than  to  any  one  else  in  the  world  if  it 
were  possible.  Nat  shall  go.  The  trip  will  be  a 
wonderful  education  for  him  and  he  will,  I  am 
sure,  work  hard  in  the  future  to  repay  you  for 
your  kindness  ;  but  I  could  not  accept  such  a  gift." 

Unconsciously  Mrs.  Jackson's  chin  lifted,  and 
her  figure  drew  itself  up. 

"  Oh,  but  /want  you  to  go,"  broke  in  Peter. 

234 


MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY 

Smiling,  she  shook  her  head. 

"  I  think,  if  you  will  pardon  my  frankness,  you 
are  making  too  much  of  a  very  slight  thing,  Mrs. 
Jackson/'  declared  Mr.  Coddington.  "Come,  be 
honest.  You  are  too  proud  to  accept  this  trip 
from  Mrs.  Coddington  and  me.  Isn't  that  it? 
You  doubt  her  wanting  you  as  a  traveling  com- 
panion. But  there  you  wrong  her.  She  really 
does  want  you.  It  would  be  a  genuine  favor  to 
her,  and  the  obligation  would  be  entirely  on  our 
side,  you  see." 

"  I  think  your  kindness  blinds  you  to  your 
real  motive,  Mr.  Coddington/1  Mrs.  Jackson  re- 
turned. 

"  Then  listen.  I  will  tell  you  a  story.  Long 

ago,  at  the  time  of  the  Civil  War,  my  father " 

Mrs.  Jackson  started,  then  recovered  herself;  but 
there  was  no  question  that  his  words  had  caught 
her  keenest  attention. 

Imperturbably  he  went  on  with  his  tale. 

"  My  father,  who  was  a  fearless  young  Northerner, 
was  sent  forward  to  carry  a  dispatch  through  the 
Southern  lines.  It  was  a  dangerous  mission  and 

235 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

on  the  delivery  of  that  message  depended  not 
alone  his  honor  but  a  large  measure  of  the  success 
of  the  Northern  cause.  He  pledged  his  life  to 
carry  that  word.  All  went  well  until  quite  with- 
out warning  he  found  himself  in  a  rebel  ambush. 
He  made  his  escape  but  in  so  doing  was  seriously 
wounded  and  nothing  but  the  speed  of  his  horse 
prevented  his  recapture.  His  enemies  were  still 
hot  in  pursuit  when  he  found  he  could  go  no 
further.  Then  when  he  saw  his  strength  failing 
and  knew  the  struggle  was  useless  he  took  a  des- 
perate chance.  A  plantation  stood  in  his  path  and 
he  rode  up  to  the  house  and  begged  for  aid.  Now 
it  happened  that  the  owners  of  that  plantation, 
although  Southerners,  were  in  sympathy  with  the 
Northern  cause ;  not  only  did  they  take  in  the 
wounded  man  and  nurse  him  back  to  life,  but  the 
son  of  the  family,  a  daring  lad,  ventured  to  con- 
tinue the  ride  through  the  lines  and  deliver  the 
stranger 's  message." 

Mr.  Coddington  paused  a  moment. 

"And  did  he  succeed?"  cried    Peter   breath- 
lessly. 

236 


MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh,  it  was  splendid  !  Think  of  a  boy's  doing 
a  thing  like  that  for  his  country  !  " 

"And  a  boy  not  much  older  than  you  either, 
Peter,"  added  Mrs.  Jackson  eagerly. 

"  Why — why — how  did  you  know?"  queried 
Peter,  bewildered. 

Instantly  Mrs.  Jackson  was  all  confusion ;  but 
she  did  not  explain  her  impulsive  words. 

"  That  Northern  soldier,  Peter,  was  your  grand- 
father," declared  Mr.  Coddington  quickly.  "  He 
all  but  died  in  the  fulfilment  of  his  task  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  nursing  he  received  in  that 
Southern  home  he  undoubtedly  would  have  done 
so.  His  family  owed  his  life,  his  honor,  and  the 
success  of  the  cause  they  prized  so  dearly  to  those 
brave  friends  who  risked  everything  they  possessed 
to  serve  their  country  and  a  fellow  creature.  And 
now  if  you  will  ask  Mrs.  Jackson  perhaps  she  can 
tell  you  who  the  boy  was  who  carried  the  dispatch 
through  the  Southern  lines." 

"  It  was  my  brother — Nat's  uncle,  Peter,"  whis- 
pered Mrs.  Jackson. 

237 


THIi  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

"  Why,  mother,"  Nat  ejaculated,  "  you  never 
told  me  it  was  these  Coddingtons  I  " 

"  And  not  until  the  day  I  came  to  see  you  at 
the  hospital,  Nat,  did  I  find  out  that  it  was  these 
Jacksons,"  said  Mr.  Coddington.  Then  turning 
to  Nat's  mother  he  said :  "  Now  you  must  certainly 
admit  that  the  Coddingtons,  Mrs.  Jackson,  owe  a 
good  deal  to  the  Jacksons — life,  honor,  their  coun- 
try's success.  Between  your  family  and  mine  on 
which  side  lies  the  obligation  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  service  gladly  rendered." 

"  But  one  that  cost  your  family  dear.  Oh,  I 
have  discovered,  you  see,  how  the  incident  came 
to  the  knowledge  of  your  Southern  neighbors  and 
how,  in  rage,  they  burned  your  father's  plantation 
driving  you  all  from  it.  I  have  looked  up  all  the 
facts.  Your  father  came  North  in  the  hope  of 
recovering  his  fortunes ;  he  died ;  you  married, 
strangely  enough,  another  Jackson  ;  your  husband 
was  unfortunate  and  before  he  won  a  place  in  life 
he,  too,  was  taken  from  you  and  you  were  left  with 
this  boy.  You  strayed  into  Milburn — it  is  need- 
less to  go  on ;  you  see  I  know  all  your  story.  I 

238 


MR.  CODDINGTON  TELLS  A  STORY 

wished,  my  dear  madam,  to  verify  my  suspicions. 
I  have  verified  them.  You  and  Nat  unconsciously 
came  to  a  haven  where  you  never  again  shall  have 
cause  to  worry.  Your  son  shall  be  trained  to  share 
my  son's  fortunes.  The  Coddingtons  can  never 
cancel  their  debt  to  the  Jacksons,  but  at  least  they 
shall  repay  a  part  of  it.  You  who  know  so  well 
what  pride  is  will  not,  I  am  sure,  deny  me  this 
pleasure  and  satisfaction." 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  silence. 

Then  Mrs.  Jackson  extended  her  hand  toward 
Mr.  Coddington. 

"  Let  us  not  consider  it  a  debt  between  stran- 
gers/' she  said.  "Rather  let  it  be  a  bond  between 
friends.  I  will  gladly  accept  your  kindness  and 
go  to  England  with  you  all." 

****** 

And  so  two  weeks  later  Peter,  amid  the  cheers 
of  the  workmen,  bade  good-bye  to  the  tanneries. 

As  he  and  his  father  stood  alone  on  the  deck  of 
the  great  liner  and  watched  her  make  her  way  out 
of  the  harbor  Mr.  Coddington  said  : 

"  Do  you  recall,  Peter,  the  evening  of  your 

239 


THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 

failure  at  school,  and  how  I  told  you  that  al- 
though it  was  hard  for  me  to  be  so  severe  I  felt  I 
must  make  a  man  of  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  was  very  confident  in  my  own  strength  that 
night ;  but  I  see  now  I  was  not  so  powerful  as  I 
thought,  and  it  is  you  who  have  shown  me  my 
folly.  No  one  in  this  world  can  build  the  char- 
acter of  another ;  each  of  us  must  rear  his  own. 
You  have  made  a  far  better  man  of  yourself,  my 
boy,  than  I  ever  could  have  made  of  you.  I  am 
proud  of  my  son,  Peter  1 " 


The  Stories  in  this  Series  are : 

THE  STORY  OF  COTTON 

THE  STORY  OF  GOLD  AND  SILVER 

THE  STORY  OF  LUMBER 

THE  STORY  OF  WOOL 

THE  STORY  OF  IRON 

THE  STORY  OF  LEATHER 


240 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 


WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $J,OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERdUE." 


$J,OO 


M,tt  21  1939 

' 

.ill!    IB   1941 

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// 

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Y/^ 

- 

JOW  9  9  f  Q7?  8  ^5 

;      .  ' 

"•     • 

-70  ,11  &M  8  9 

8!  92 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


